Author Archives: Paula Jones

How important is customer service?

Yada, Yada, Yada (16 x 16))I’ve had a unique experience that I want to share with you all.  Especially with those of you who are artists and are making a go of being considered a professional in your field.

On September the 11th, I ordered a piece of artwork to be sent to my dear friend who had just emerged from Hurricane Irma, as a gift to her to remember that she is special.  The artist is an acquaintance friend, who is extremely gifted in a unique form of art, and a very dear person.

I paid her right away, and she promised to ship that weekend.

As you can imagine, I was anxious for my friend in Florida to receive the gift, as she had just gone through the hurricane, and I wanted to lift her spirits.

Mid week, the next week, I sent a message to the artist, asking when she expected it to be there.  She stated that she was having some financial difficulties, and could not afford to ship right then.  I offered her an extra $20 if she would ship it right away.  She thanked me profusely, and promised to get it out right away, along with the promise that she would include a special extra for making me wait, and send me pics. (That’s two promises so far!)

Six days later, I checked in with the artist again.  No response for a couple of days.  Then, a response, with the excuse of family issues.  I understand.  Things happen that are unforeseen.

Another week went by…another promise of making it to the Post Office that day.

And yet another week – another promise.

I offered her suggestions.

More excuses.

Today, I made an uncomfortable decision (after messaging her a few more times, with no response – and being promised six times total that she would ship), to file a complaint with Paypal.

I love this artist. She is gifted.  She is soulful. She has that “intangible” that I speak about ad nauseum.

BUT, she doesn’t have customer service.

I don’t trust anything she says anymore….which is unfortunate, because SHE is an artist I would love to support, but can’t.

I went on her facebook page – several collectors have made comments about the same issue.  Which makes me sad for her.

Artists are collectors.  I am a HUGE collector, but, unfortunately, I will not be collecting her art.


Probably one of the most important things that you do.

Communicate with your collectors.  Occasionally, snafus happen.  Communicate.

But, never make promises that you can’t or won’t keep.

And, don’t take 5 plus weeks to ship.

May we walk together as one.



How do you know if they are “real”?

I Give Them Voices (24 x 24)
                   I Give Them Voices

The messages?  How do you know if they are indeed “real”?  That they are from God, Spirit, your guides or whatever you believe in?  And, when it is coming from your head?

Sundays seem to be my days to ponder those sort of questions….It’s something I have been mulling around in my head and heart the past few days.

This is MY answer.  The way that I know that the messages I receive are authentic.

I dated a shaman for three years.  I accompanied him a lot on his healing journeys.  There was a man that was in the process of “crossing over” (Or however you want to say it), and he (the shaman) asked me to participate in helping the man make his journey in a good, and peaceful way.  “Larry” was breathing in a way, that let us all know that he was close.  When he would stop taking breaths, everyone would say – be at peace, etc etc.   I was an observer.  I knew no one present, except for the shaman.

Before I knew it, I felt a presence next to me.


omg – wtf?????


lord god – seriously???

“Will you tell them that I want to do this in my own way, my own time, without anyone present?”

what does one say to that sort of request?



I promise.

I waited.

Because, well, I wasn’t sure.  Did he really ask me to communicate with his family?  And, I was afraid to make a fool of myself.


lord god, he was back.

“You promised.”

He showed me a crane, with an old antique green truck hanging from the crane with an American Flag below it.

And then, he was gone.

Deep breath.

“Was ‘Larry’ the sort of guy that did things on his own time?”


I gave them the message.

Everyone left.

I told my friend what he showed me.

He died that night…all alone….just like he wanted it.

We went to the funeral….on a huge estate in Taos.

After finding a parking place, we walked to the well manicured very expansive lawn where the service was being held.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

I couldn’t breathe.

I looked at my friend – and he said – very quietly – “I was wondering when you would see it.”

On the lawn was a firetruck.

With the ladder extended.

With a flag hanging from the top.

And down below – the pickup.  Same color, same make and model that “Larry” had showed me.

Any time, I receive the messages, they come in the same way.  Not really in my mind, although, of course, it has to be used to process it into words.  It’s a feeling – a knowing – intuition.

It’s deeper and higher, everything and nothing.   It’s the space between the seconds.  When I doubt – they give me confirmation – a phone call from a friend – talking about parts of my message.  A meme posted on social media. A critter who’s totem message is similar to the one I received.

Oh sure, I go back into my head  – I’m human, after all…But, for the most part, I have faith.

You see, I’m not so different from those who are religious – they have faith – faith in something bigger than themselves.

May we walk together as one.





Confessions of a (almost former) people pleaser

Lord God…we are all being hit with so much right now.  As if all of the hurricanes, wildfires, earthquakes, and state of our country isn’t enough, we are being asked to step up and into our authentic powerful god/and goddess selves which translates to….well….chaos….which means big change for so many. Our lessons are coming at…Continue Reading

I’m wondering why????

This “artistic” mind of mine is always going….seeking….curious…. I never know what I will decide to write and/or paint next.   I listen.  I cuss.  I get into a panic about whether or not I’ll ever paint again.  I worry about whether or not people will like me.   I wonder if people will “get me”.  A…Continue Reading

About Paula
Raven Shaman