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December 2006
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February 2007

In the Pink

Low skies, grey light, and the anticipation of snow makes me put on a pink turtleneck today. The view from my bedroom could be a study in values and if I were smart, I'd concentrate on sketching that and working on my tonal values. Instead, I have an early hair appointment and spend a few hours in the salon, where my hair stylist tells me of his youth in Sicily and shows me photos of his rosebud baby girl. The woman who washes my hair, Sonia, who has skintight bronze hair, (something I would die to be able to pull... Read more →

Worlds Collide

The Today Show has a segment on whether mothers of babies should gather and have a glass of wine. My God - mothers who drink!! Only in America. I suddenly realize that the representative "Mom" is Melissa of Suburban Bliss. And she's wearing her Superhero necklace. Meredith Viera asks her, "what does the wine do for you?" I want to move to France. Right now! Read more →

Ever Feel Like Things Are Closing In On You?

They probably are. Much as we try to keep our lives Zen-like and free, And post pretty pictures with pithy, funny words - shit happens. It's the stuff of life, the staff of life, and how we know we're not dead. Yet. The phone rings and rings both at work and home. At least we know we're not going deaf. And the pile of dishes in the sink? At least we know someone eats Though no one has time to cook . Math A Regents? Doctor visits? Hurried trips to the bank? At least we know that the empty is... Read more →

You Know I'd Rather Clean Than

make art. Nah. But I have been known as the Queen of Procrastination, so this weekend, rather than actually working on the commission due Feb 1, I'm cleaning out the artroom. Or as The Young One said: "You have more stuff to give away??" It's not all my fault, I had to get in there with a shovel from the last two commissions and Christmas meltdown. I mean, I had to close up the ironing board so I could get at the desk and the closet, which meant I had to put away the foam core board on top of... Read more →

Mid Winter Mid Week Middle Aged

Remember the novel about the middle-aged invisible woman? I can't remember the name or who wrote it but the gist of it is that the woman is middle aged and everytime she looks in the mirror, she sees anothe piece of herself disappearing. Mid-winter, mid-week, I can feel relate to this feeling. Especially if I'm standing in front of a window such as this. Though I have to say then even twenty years ago and #$^%#@ pounds lighter, I would walk past this window and not turn my head. The first dress: funereal. The middle outfit: laughable. The third dress:... Read more →

Down by the Sound, there's a bench waiting for us. And the sun is struggling to rise. The wind picks up the summer salt Blesses us with the crystals. But for today, the fog mummifies our thoughts. Swaddles us in packing cotton as we drive home. MM is in his little apartment. Waiting to start his internship. Harder to leave him there than at school. He seems unfazed. We have an empty feeling. A raw space in the nest. I tumble into bed and sleep the afternoon away. Read more →


Quiet and sleepy, we seem to be making up for the energy expended over the holidays. Winter's usual bone-wearying fatigue is mild, along with the weather this year. Mid-January and my lilac by the front door has swelling buds and the lawn has fresh, green grass coming up. We're not sure whether to tune up the snow blower or the lawn mower. Yet, our bodies know it is winter. There's no spring in our steps when we jump out of bed before dawn. It's the light, you know. And I'm sad as each house on our block take down their... Read more →

Houston? Houston!

The power cord to my Power Book starting sparking the other day and died. After trying to buy a new one, I've discovered that the power cord to Power Books are notorious for this little feature, and due to their failure to live strong and prosper, they are sold out everywhere. So I am waiting for a faux one, which is supposed to come this week, as opposed to an authentic one, which will take 3 to 4 weeks. Please be patient while we attempt lift-off. Right now I am using the husband's heavy, pinchy, HP. Yes, pinchy - I... Read more →

When Pigs Fly

I'm painting. Two pictures - in a series, no less. Painting out of my head, with whimsy and silliness. Seriously, there are enough serious artists out there. I won't ever pretend to be one. I don't have time - doesn't it take decades? I'll never take umbrage at being called an illustrator and not a fine artist as long as what I'm illustrating is out of my own head. Ha! Who am I kidding? I'd be thrilled to be called an illustrator. Thrilled to be asked to illustrate something. The end of the year has brought some release for me.... Read more →

Anybody else crying while watching Mrs. Ford get out of her wheelchair to walk down the three steps with her sons on either side, and then tell them she wanted to walk the rest of the way behind her husband's casket as it is carried by the pall bearers to the burial plot? And now they are singing "America" a cappella. That's it for my composure tonight. It's been a long day - gotta find the merlot. I Read more →