Hurricane PARTY Here…. holla!!!
So far, it is all fun and games here… you know, howling back at howling winds… BUT we know how very serious things can get… and we pray for all of those who are in this for the night… God Bless everyone… Be Safe….
Things are picking up here!!! Eeekkk….
Today, I took a drive… me, camera, coffee, music, kid… it’s how we roll….
Tree lined paths, Pumpkin lined steps to welcoming porches…. Blue pick-ups with trailers of hay, tractors… cottages by rocky rivers with chimneys blowing smoke… warm fires gathering family and friends…
Fall full of Light… I don’t know what this last building is but I think I will paint it…. unless it is an outhouse… which I kinda think it is… not sure if I wanna paint a picture of someone’s pooper.
Being an American makes me feel free… it also makes me prone to political fits around Election time… I believe in things. I trust in things. I will not get on a soapbox and scream but I will watch with intensity the debate between a “Binder full of Women” and “It’s Just not True.”
That is the pleasure and responsibility I feel as an American. How AMAZING it is to have a choice. How Amazing I feel it is to be an American. When the lesser of two ‘evils’ (and I say evils, only in a term of the intensity that is fueled between sides, I believe in no evil) still means I have the fundamental right to believe. To be. Whatever choice we chose to make on Election Day, I will always consider it an absolute amazing right to have a choice in my life. What an amazing gift I was given to Decide what it is I shall do this day, who I will be, how lovely the kindness and respect I will choose on this day to exude. How lovely it is that I shall choose to work, to paint, to raise a child and be a wife as I see fit to grow in this world. It is still fundamentally my right and for that I shall always be thankful… Thankful to believe my life has been given to me as I see fit to live in it… I am ever thankful…
The lovely woman who owned this cottage bought this painting from me. It meant the world to me that she loved the painting as much as I loved painting her home. Her home was freedom for me… A sweet Cottage along a River… A stone Fireplace…. A wooden floor to grow roots under. It is a Dream of mine, and as an American, I feel it is a dream that I can believe in… how lucky I feel. I can believe.
I Believe…
As I said Goodbye to one… 
So long, Gorgeous…
I quickly rebounded with another… It was quite an illicit little affair, rushed… 4 in the morning, ‘Designing Women’ marathon watching… Haphazard brush strokes…
Blurry eyed and content with an evening fill of Julia Sugarbaker wit… I gave in…
In the morning I awoke and there she was on the wall…
Crazy little ship painting… I love you…
Thanks for the one-night stand.
Little time has actually passed since I posted, but so much has happened… and as the wilting of blue hydrangea gave way to the bright orange of happy pumpkins, we too gave way here… to time…
Good… good time… I said goodbye to this ship painting… I lived within it as I painted it. I remember exactly how I felt, how the sun was dancing with my child in the room as I painted. The records playing, the cold wood floor under my feet and the warm coffee mug I clutched in my hands as I stood back to look. It’s all there. The time… As the painting may go, the happiness it brought me does not. That is why I love to paint. It helps me to remember; to place, moments in my life that I may have forgotten. That I may have forgotten if they weren’t painted, masquerading as a ship, water, and clouds. I see it and I can remember, all the lovely time.
More tomorrow… yay!
