Thursday, September 25, 2014

4am Friends


I'm planning a trip back to San Francisco and Marin and can't help but think of the beautiful groggy WTF faces of the girlfriends I would call at 4am. I call them the Dead Body friends. They know where it's buried. Not that I would ever be a suspect but hey…if you've ever gone through a divorce…enough said.

So I post today thinking about these dynamic friends I don't see that often but carry with me in my iPhone every day. They are the ones that said: Paint, you can do it. Move, you'll find a community. Leave, you'll find another. Write, your audience will find you. Get healthy, you'll be grateful. And now it's my turn to to be the one who can pick up the phone at 4am, be the hooty wise owl if needed. Collectively, they are going through some heavy times. We will laugh, probably cry, these are sister friends. The ones who say shit you might not want to hear but you listen anyway because they are wise and funny and have your back and "get you".  Those ones. Those are the ones you call at 4am. And the ones that call me. xoxo

"Call Me" 9x12", acrylic on canvas.


Thursday, September 11, 2014

Live in the Sunshine


Summer is almost over. It's not cold, in fact tonight is downright balmy & tropical for mid September, but the mornings have a chill and smell a little like fall and make me so grateful that I got out my trusty beach cruiser this summer and pedaled my little heart out.

Riding my bike is just one piece of the little things in my day that make me smile for no reason. Why is getting on barcalounger with wheels wearing inappropriate foot wear so freaking fun and funny? Beats me but I do it when I can because I'm telling you, a brief joy ride up and down my street is enough to make me feel like the big kid that I am. My bike makes me smile and smiling makes me laugh and laughing makes me feel free and feeling free makes me feel like making art.

"Live in the sunshine,
Swim in the sea,
Drink in the wild air."
Ralph Waldo Emerson

"Pink Beach Cruiser", framed in barn wood, 18x24"