By CONSTANCE STUMIN
Contributing Writer

What would you like to be in your next life? I'd like to be one of my own cats - because nobody's got it better!

On a human level, I'd like to be that rara avis - a working artist of stunning originality who genuinely enjoys the process of making art. Of all the artists I know the one who comes closest to this ideal is St. Augustine's Michelle Robideaux.

Robideaux is an artist and teacher who is currently on sabbatical after years of teaching art, most recently at Nease High School. At 50-something, she is slim, fit, very focused and original. Her multi-media talent is reflected in her home which is a collection of beautiful and highly organized piles of junk. She is a pack rat. No surface goes unmarked. Nothing is wasted. She has an acute case of horror vacui (art term for fear or dislike of empty spaces).

Old chairs are encrusted with paint and dotted lines of putty, bottle caps, even broken bits of red tail lights, all placed in fanciful compositions. Robdieaux understands this process and make it work. Her folding screens are particularly cherished.

One of the many "special" things about this artist is her "Broken Pot Society" which has become an established studio happening. Women gather once a month to make books, mosaic pots, note cards, etc. - all from discarded and unloved treasures found in the trash bins of America.

I recently attended on of these "First Monday of the Month" events to make refrigerator magnets. The only requirement is a "pot luck" snakc or bottle of wine to participate in an evening of chat and creation, very much like an updated old fashioned quilting bee. Practically no one is a professional artist, just women wanting to connect with other women and crate something. The rarely smiling, dry-witted Robideaux calls it a "society" with tongue will in cheek.

The atmosphere is very low key as 10 to 20 women gather around the kitchen table where Robideaux lays out the project for the night. Robideaux demos with a light hand, not wanting to control but rather inspire the group to do their own thing.

For such a talented right brain creature, Robideaux has that left brain working pretty well too. Her studio adjoins the kitchen and is full of computer technology that she taught herself to use. She communicates with members of this Monday night "wine klatsch" by e-mail between meetings, explaining the next artistic endeavor and what to bring.

Women come with everything from bits of antique lace to kid's art and photos of deceased relatives. Robideaux scans them into her computer for print outs and manipulation. She insists that the participants learn to do this process themselves, regardless of their level of "computer-ease."

Paint is squeezed out, stencils made and some really amazing refrigerator magnets are created. Some are hilarious, others sly and others meant as valentines to husbands, lovers and the departed. Refrigerator doors become tiny art galleries of the heart.

Gradually fading into the background, Robideaux is available to help, but most of the memebers are quickly absorbed into their own worlds, revealing themselves throught their creations. Some will return the next first Monday of the month with a friend in tow, other occasionally, or never. There is no charge or obligation. It is simply this rara avis' way of sharing her talent and love. Of course, there is the occasional sale, too. She is a great believer in Karma. So am I. That's why I'd like to be like her next time around.