Jessica and I met at the Los Duranes Community Center today to attend the death café. We got there at two; it went from 11 to 1:00.
We went to the range café and had lunch. I told a little about each of you. Earlier in the day, I had sent her a note with a link to one of John's blogs about Justin. I told how Justin had been a model for me. (tears come; Jessica's encouraging/teaching me to grieve.)
Greg's been doing an amazing job of heeding the advice given while he was being treated for the cancer.
I went looking for something about Art and found this:
As ymentioned before in several posts, Blogger is more or less a dead application, perhaps with no one at Google working on it all all, but I do like it and still add to a few blogs on this host periodically. If you see 'Anonymous' it's likely 'Art.' Blogger fails to remember me. 'Art' is not really my name. At an early age, pre-teen, I exhibited considerable creativity. Lacking family with any education, single parent, etc., etc., I lost my way and ended working as creatively as one could in the corporate IT world. Overall, other than the money and periodic recognition that path taken was a waste. Leaving the corporate world a decade I've attempted to re-nourish that creativity, wishing 'art' of many forms to have been the path taken. It's a bit of an 'almost too late' turn in direction. My hands shake a bit when painting, my thoughts wander while writing and I lack the ability to be awake as much as I wish, and remaining life obligations are potholes that shake and slow the Art-Uber ride. Your posts remain a motivation. Of course the image of her on the pool table is a reminder that not all is too late.
As I lie here bawling like a child, I'm gonna ask you, Art, again, to show your work. Maybe you were among the group that could do their long division in their head? I kept getting admonished to "show my work." It was the time of the "new math" and I really didn't know how; I barely finished the ninth grade. They gave me D minuses instead of Fs so they wouldn't have to put up with me the next year. Fortunately, we moved.
I'm really curious to see your paintings. I'd even go to FB!
Here she is. I started to post a frontal, but given the repressiveness of the zeitgeist I decided not. Sorry. Give me an email and I will.
She is now, lovlier than ever.
It may sound condescending, but I feel as if each of us is coming into our own. I remember reading - maybe 2 decades ago - a 70+ year old remarking how he never imagined it would be this good. At age 52, though enraptured with a millionairess, I was skeptical; now I nod appreciatively.
May we each enjoy many happy returns.
