November 13, 2o25
Happy Birthday, Beth !
Wish I could bake you an elephant cake.
I woke up very early this morning because the road crew arrived at sun break.  They were still here when I took my dinner out of the oven at 7 tonight.  I hope they finished up.



This is a photo from the Community Art Show in 2022, all four of these pieces were done by me and 2 close friends.  This year I had a couple of friends summit work, but basically the community at large has taken over.  It's so exciting to see it flourish.  





Today I went and had a sonogram on my leg.  I won't know the results for a few days.  It kind of unnerved me because I'm pretty sure they found a blockage, but I don't know any facts.   I thought about just going home to bed, but instead I went to LAVA an hour early and I wrote surrounded by the new show.  It was so comforting.  I'm so glad I've done the work that I've done over the past 6 years.  It's really been a blessing.
photo by Patrick
This makes me so happy
Sometime during the day Patrick sent me this, it is one of my favorite things in all of the world.
Ocean, I can hear it.  Look at that spray.  I can smell it and luckily I can't feel it cause I'm sure it's cold



Photo by Karen

I love this picture, thank you, Karen.  Ethan is accompanying Ember on the piano, or maybe the other way around and Ember is accompanying Ethan with the recorder.  He loves to stand, he loves to smile  and he plays individual notes instead of banging the piano.  
With any luck I will get to photograph my world tomorrow.   My day was so jammed packed it didn't make sense to carry the camera around.  Tomorrow I will find some beauty to shoot.  Now, I'm off to sleep. 



 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Image
  January 3, 2025 The Complexity (what I refer to as the texture) of Life This is a photo of Michael Whiton, eldest child of Jean O. Whiton.  If you knew our mother, you know whose eyes he inherited.  Picture was taken by Linda Boardman.        I did not take pictures today, nor was my brain very able.  So tonight you get a poem I wrote 25 years ago that is more spirited than I could write tonight. I Believe in Color   I believe in red the changing forever-ness of red.  A pure rich red: cotton tee shirt red, berries on the bushes in the dead of  New England winters, cherries in June next to a slab of ripe brie. Magenta, a little redder than wine, blood as it begins to dry, the curtains I always wanted, floor length heavy velvet. Orange red on the skins of a tangelo; blood oranges in a light blue porcelain bowl on a small table near stark white walls. Dusty rose of an old flannel duvet, the height of fashion in 1980. I believe i...
Read more
Image
January  4, 2025 Michael E. Whiton  June 30, 1944 - January 4, 2025     I always talk about patterns, it is my researcher's brain.  This morning I texted with my niece, Grace, and asked her what her 12 year old was really into. She told me math.  He plays the flute in his school band.  I had an epiphany when the 2 things got put together.  To grow up with music as a constant all through your childhood you are exposed to patterns.  You become aware of what can follow what.  My 3 year old great niece makes up little songs, repetitive musical patterns.  Her father repeats them or adds to them.  She already knows how to put notes together.  That's math.  That's what Liam does.        So what does all that have to do with Michael's leaving us on this plain today.  Well, one pattern is that we all seem to be good with babies.   When Mike was 21, Jason was born.  He was good to babies....
Read more
Image
  January 2, 2025 Time is both too soon and too late.   Just keeps slipping.     I believe it was 1996 or 7 when I flew out to Bainbridge Island to see my brother, Mike.  He was very ill and my Mom was worried and wanted me to go assess the situation, which I did, probably in not such a diplomatic way.  He really was ill.  His liver was failing and he wasn't getting put on the transplant list, yet.  I've never quite understand the whys and the wherefores of all that.  But for the next 4 or so years he maintained, so sick, sometimes optimistic, sometimes beaten, but he made it to a liver transplant in August 2000 in Worchester.       24 years ago, holy shit.  EJ's entire life, a third of mine; and again he kept living, kept listening to music and trying to be kind and never regaining any reliable health.   His story is fascinating, and I'll tell it sometime, but not tonight.  Tonight I just want to ...
Read more