I Used To Be Young



Have you ever found yourself at a show, watching the crowd around you dance and exert more energy than you can possibly muster? And even though you’re into the band, all you can do it sit in the corner, wondering when the show will end?


I used to be young…




Today is International Talk Like a Pirate Day!


Dork that I am, I do try to fit in a bit of Pirate Talk each year on this date. It’s a challenge for me and it’s fun. For me. Heaven help the poor folks I encounter throughout the day. But hey – that’s just the way it goes, Mateys.


I plan to splice the main brace today, and hope ye do, too. Careful not to get too squiffy, mates, lest ye end up loaded to the gunwalls!



Olive Grove



This little painting was based on time spent in a friend’s olive grove in Tuscany. Mister and I wandered around, taking pictures and mostly being quiet. Olive groves will do that to a person.


Anyhoo, it’s a small painting, only 8 x 10 inches. And it’s rather abstract, showing a close-up of an aged olive tree branch. Honestly, after painting it I sort of forgot about it. Only recently did I put a frame around it, just to see how it would look. Maybe it was a magic frame, because once I saw it surrounded by wood, the little painting sort of became majestic in my eyes. And the truth is, I love trees. This lichen-covered specimen is no exception.

Another Year



A few months ago I met a remarkable woman who told me that she and her husband have been married 40-some-odd years. She said that each year on their anniversary, they go out for dinner (without their children) and look back at the previous year. She went on to say that after a frank discussion of how that year rated, they then discuss whether or not to sign on for the coming year.


I respect her method. “‘Til Death Do Us Part” is nuts. For about a jillion reasons. I mean, sometimes relationships have just run their course. That may be sad or not, but it’s true. And there’s nothing wrong with that, friends.


Anyhoo, I don’t know why I’m going on and on about this. Maybe it’s because Mister and I are celebrating adding another year to the tally. And if we sit back and discuss the previous year with the intention of determining whether or not to re-up for another, I can only say that I’m game. Abundantly, happily so.

D-Squared T-Squared – Week 37



We decided to take a break from the Mystery Project and tackle a different artistic endeavor. So we’re smack dab in the middle of a photography session. And it’s fun! We haven’t tweaked any of the photos yet, but will share some once they’re ready.


And yes, we will return to the Mystery Project. That one’s slow-going, but will eventually see daylight. Swear to beans.

Pussies Galore



I spotted this business card while at a pet store with my buddy Betro. We had a nice giggle about it and then I realized that if the card didn’t have the words “Pet Care” on it, it would have been a card about my marriage…



Some things you cannot make up.




Mister and I have a previous commitment and will be missing the Beer Clug’s Oktoberfest outing today.


I remember my first underage beer. I didn’t like it and thought all beer must be terrible. (I think it was probably a Bud or something along those lines.) As I grew older, I drank beer here and there, but not until I had my first Guinness did I know how truly good beer could be.


Now that I’m more adventurous, I try all kinds of beer. I’m not crazy about hops, but I do at least try things. Sometimes.


To my friends who will be enjoying Oktoberfest today – prost! I’ll catch you the next time around.

Food as Art



Y’all know I’m a big old food dork, right? Right. So when I saw this ad for British store Marks & Spencer, my eyes nearly welled up. It’s so gorgeous and so tempting. I highly recommend a viewing.


As I live in L.A. and not in the UK, I can’t just bop over to M&S to check out the goodies. But I do adore these visuals. Enjoy!

Desert Music



Honestly, I don’t know what to tell you about this painting.


It’s odd. Even to me. And maybe that’s because it had no planning. I just started painting and allowed it to go in its own direction. Apparently I had the desert on my mind, because that’s where it ended up. And a cactus growing through a spent piano? No clue, y’all. No clue.


I suppose this little piece is just something I had to do to clear the cobwebs from my brain. It holds no great meaning for me or anything. I’d be lying if I said otherwise.


Then again, there is something about it that intrigues me. Maybe I want it to be real. Maybe I want to encounter that dilapidated piano during a desert sojourn. Somewhere deep within my psyche, I suppose I already have…




I’d been waiting to watch it. My friend Betro was waiting, too, so that we could watch together: the Kate Bush documentary that recently aired on BBC. A buddy had sent a copy from the UK and Betro and I wanted to make it an occasion.


When we finally sat down together, our focus on the television screen, neither of us had any idea what to expect. Betro pressed play…


Do you have heroes? Do you have people whose talents you admire, if not downright envy? Is there someone in the world you look up to? Someone you don’t actually know, yet you’re grateful for?


Kate Bush is one such person for me. And while I have her entire musical catalog in my possession, I can’t say I’ve ever known much about her. Her personal life has never been a topic of conversation in my little world. And I’m not so stalkerish as to wonder where she lives or how she goes about her day-to-day existence. All I’ve cared about is the music. Her songs have provided refuge and entertainment. I’ve listened to her music when I’ve felt alone and when I’ve wanted to dance. I’ve depended on her talents for inspiration and comfort. Again and again, her music has been there for me.


When the documentary ended, I covered my face with my hands, to enclose my tears. I finally looked up and saw Betro doing the same. It seemed we were both profoundly affected by the Kate Bush doc. Our ensuing conversation covered not only our feelings about the documentary, but also our personal histories with the music of Kate Bush. We talked about how we perceived her talents and choices. We talked about our own life choices. And fear. How there’s far too much of it. How it cripples.


And we talked about how grateful we are that some folks find a way to move through their own fear (if they have it) and produce beauty in this world. About how our tears were joyful. About how nice it was to be able to share our thoughts and feelings together.


Heroes sometimes wear uniforms. Sometimes they stand high above the rest of us. More often than not, however, they look just like us. Doing their best to get along in this world with what they’ve got. Make no mistake – they are not without fear. Like us, their thoughts occasionally run to the perceived pain of failure. But unlike many of us, they go ahead and try to make their lives into – something.


Thank goodness.