10 Things

1. It's often a hindrance that I am disorganized, especially with regards to paperwork. How I manage some days is beyond me.

2. Today I spent way too much time looking for one particular piece of paper. It should have been where I thought I put it.

3. I have no idea where else to look.

4. Last Christmas, this exact same thing happened. I spent days looking for a particular drawing. I finally found it just a few weeks ago, where I had looked countless times before.

5. When I haven't painted in a while, I wonder if I really know how to paint, or if it's all a fluke.

6. It's a huge relief to paint something and have it turn out like I envision.

7. It's a bummer to work on a painting and never be quite satisfied with it.

8. Most nights I have no idea what to fix for supper.

9. French is not the easiest language to learn, though I'm not practicing as much as I should.

10. I need a nap.

Some Day

When our daughters were small, we would often go downtown to have lunch with Reese. This was usually an exciting adventure. There were tunnels to explore, cookies to eat, and elevators to ride.

Mr. Roger's Neighborhood was practically the only television show we allowed our daughters to watch back in those days. Mr. Rogers was always kind and gentle, and never talked down to his young audience. Every episode had a fantastic trolley going from Mr. Roger's house to The Neighborhood of Make-Believe.

At the time, Houston had just implemented a new trolley system to shuttle people around downtown and promote goodwill. When our daughters saw the new trolley in downtown Houston, they endlessly pleaded to go for a ride. Of course, I think they thought it would take them to the Neighborhood of Make-Believe. We were usually pressed for time, so our standard parental response to their impassioned query was always, "we'll ride the trolley some day...."

One day Reese and I stood in line with our young daughters at the trolley stop. This was before they could read, and they had no idea what we were doing. When our oldest daughter realized that the trolley had stopped right where we were standing, she looked at us, her big brown eyes filled with excitement, and said,

"Is it some day today?"

"Yes," we smiled, "it's some day today."

That's exactly how I felt yesterday morning. I woke up, and excitedly asked in my heart, "Can I paint today?" And I thought of my daughter asking is it some day today? "Yes, I can paint today."

And I did. Painting yesterday was magical....just like that trolley ride with our daughters so long ago...

Last Week

It's been a long time between posting
but that is because I was hosting
my two daughters fair
one with curly hair
wine glasses went clinking while toasting.

One daughter came in for a wedding
brought home a young man for the fete-ing
dinners and luncheons
and all of the functions
kept them running and other jet setting.

The wind blew in daughter two, too
who came to get the tent blue
for camping she went
in that big blue grey tent
in West Texas where people are few.

Then along came two sweet Norwegians
choir members sent here on a mission
to spread some good cheer
from Galveston to here
while singing and not deep sea fishin'.

Last, there was a wonderful dinner
prepared by a chef -- what a winner
I provided the house
and appetite aroused
we feasted from six until tenner.

In a nutshell, that was last week
it was fun though I'm ready for sleep
or another glass of wine
to toast new friends fine
and ready my heart for this week.

Hi Ho

At the very least, it looks like a lady holding a baby.

This was started for a particular figurative show but didn't get finished in time. It's painted on a thick weave linen.

This is also one of those paintings that was a struggle to paint. I don't know why that happens; why some paintings I toil over almost from the beginning. On paintings like this I wish I had seven little dwarfs to help me work.

Little Joe

This is the little cowboy I supervised at the Houston Livestock Show and Rodeo today. Let's call him Joe.

On the bus ride to the rodeo, Joe asked me, "Why is your hair so white?" When I answered because I'm old, he said, "My grandma has white hair and she is old. Your face isn't old. Why is your hair old?"

It was Joe's first time at the rodeo. He was excited about everything; petting goats, seeing baby chicks, seeing pigs and ponies, watching a cow get milked, and eating a corn dog. He said "Hi Mr. Cowboy!" to every grown man in a cowboy hat and boots. There are a lot of Mr. Cowboys at the rodeo.

On the bus ride home I asked little Joe what his favorite thing at the rodeo was.

"Talking to you," he said.