This is a little multimedia portrait that I did of the sweet Goddess of Leonie a bit ago for our chocolatey drippy afternoon at the Portrait Party. The photo is a bit flashy, but bear with me, people. L, your original is on the way!
Thank you to the amazing Rama and Christine for creating this adventure!
I am posting this photo of us from Julie's wedding last May for no reason in particular, I just like the photo. Miles is clutching his spiderman on a cylinder that buckles at the knees when you push the base in. He seems to be looking off into the distance longingly, possibly at Laurel's boobs, which he couldn't get enough of this trip. Baby boys and boobs. They love 'em.
My yogi tea fortune today says, "Whatever you are doing is the most beautiful thing."
We arrived back from Oklahoma on Monday night later than we expected. Settling back in is always challenging for me-the suitcases sit with clothes spilling over the sides as chores from a week ago remain undone. Another day won't hurt!
It seems like life is flying past me at the moment. There is really quite a lot going on with us and with friends, but I can feel myself checking out-drifting away from anything but here and now. Miles is a bit sick and this morning I have a sore throat and swollen glands. My low immunity seems to be a theme this year. This week I've found myself wandering aimlessly back and forth from the kitchen in the past few days-what shall I take for malaise? Eat? How do I take care of myself again? Sheesh.
I received my copy of The Guerilla Art Kit, and Miles and I made 6 installments around town yesterday. I am exhilarated by Keri's ideas and her ability to take a simple concept and make a grassroots revolution out of it. Opening up and reading the first 20 pages completely changed the course of my day, and I have to wonder if anyone took our artwork home and how those who saw the work were affected. We used about 90% recycled materials, mainly the envelopes from junk mail and magazine inserts. It gave me a buzz to think of putting garbage to work, giving it a much more important job than it was orginally designed for. I enjoyed the exercise to determine what thoughts I'd like to put into people's heads as guiding principle for the pieces we assembled-it helped me narrow down what messages I'm, uh, living my life to promote as a result of my experiences and who I am-how intimate! Part of me wants to drive around and see what remains today! Trying to be a stealthy ninja spy while placing the art was fun, but I don't think the CIA will be recruiting me for any black ops divisions soon-I think someone spotted me twice! But what, fun-I am telling you. This town needs some color and liveliness, and we felt so excited to contribute to the mystery and fun of perfect strangers interacting with us. What a fun rush! Thank you, Keri-you are a beautiful renegade. I can see and feel how you are changing the world, one stick of chalk at a time.
I've got a copy of Real Simple (bit of an oxymoron for all the consumption they promote) magazine's special family edition. I snatched it up at Phoenix airport because as I held it, it magically fell open to Heather Armstrong's (affectionately known to her readers as Dooce, as if all of you don't already worship her offbeat humor-so why am I even writing this?) letter to her daughter. An added bonus is a letter from Rob Corddry to his daughter is featured, too. Jackpot. Funny stuff.
Here is a shot from Uncle Rick and Aunt Pamela's ranch on the plains, miles from anything but a super Walmart, where the gravel roads have no street signs and seed ticks rule your ankles...
More photos of Indian territory when I return. Until then, go buy Keri's book!