“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan



My the-first-time-ever-I-walked-to-work-shoes.

The green flip-flop soles for St. Patrick's Day, the skirt for me to be playful in, and it only took ½ hour to get here, but this is Texas, y'all - we drive! But I am vehicle-less today, and decided the weather was just fine, a bit foggy when I set out, but I've always wanted to know how long it would take me to walk it, and it was not too bad. I saw mounted heads-o-Buddhas on display at a white house with a porch that went all the way around it & made me quite jealous that it wasn't mine, I followed ever-so-convenient pale aqua arrows spray-painted on the streets, pointing exactly in my direction, I was accompanied by a black & tan pit bull for part of the trek, I saw wisteria blooming all lavender & purple & no doubt in places where it wasn't meant to be, but you know how wisteria is, and I saw azaleas bursting out all pink & magenta & white & I promised myself that this year I will do the tourist thing & take pictures of the Azalea Trail - I live right in the middle of the whole shebang, in the house-with-no-azaleas, just ½ block from young girls dressed as Southern Belles, but I never take pictures, but like I said, I talked myself into it.

I am still painting, and it is quite hopeless at the moment, but I have faith that that will change. I keep plugging away, slathering on gel & paint & paper & gesso & more gel, and soon it will come together - I know this in my heart - but truly, right now, it looks quite pathetic and sad, and the canvases are wondering what on earth I am doing to them.

I tell them I am playing.
I am unfurling. :)
in my artist skirt :)


  1. I had to go to the doctor's office today. Picked up a sandwich and my camera and drove through the Azalea District and took pics out my car window. Already getting some traffic. I'll show mine this week. Keep painting and they will come, as they say...

  2. Great art
    and great poetry
    wraps itself around
    your innermost being.

  3. coming here is as good as stepping outside and taking a deep breath of whatever nature has to share with me.

    it leaves me feeling lighter and filled with lots of organic patterns dancing across my heart.

  4. Keep unfurling. I know you. You'll discover the beauty in no time and all the work in unearthing it will have been pure joy.

    If I were to walk to work, it would take nearly two hours, but I would have cows, fields, rivers, or wild turkeys nearly the whole way.

  5. you look completely aqua, baby, pale, turquoise beautiful blue in your little skirt and flip flops! too adorable for words :)
    smooches instead.

  6. I love how you are unfurling...that is such a perfectly playful and creative word.

    You just keep unfurling. And keep playing too.



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