Sunday Morning 8am...

It's just me and the girls home this weekend. There's something so delicious about sometimes hanging only with girls.

My oldest daughter graduated Friday night. She was a vision in a cherry blossom coloured strapless Cinderella ballgown. I watched her come down the stairs of her friend's house (which perfectly, are like the stairs in the plantation Tara in the Gone with the Wind)and had a rush of emotion so strong I had to hide behind my hair. A bunch of us moms had arrived early to take pics of our daughters pre prom. I was surprised that all the moms weren't a sloppy mess at the sight of their grown up daughters in their glory. 'It's a symbolic moment!' I wanted to shout. 'Let's all cry together!' No one else got quite as worked up as I did...

***

Yesterday, because I could, I indulged myself in painting for 12 solid hours. No one asked me for anything - it was rare, next to amazing, and perfect. Today I need to find my way from the otherworld, but a day like that every now and then is a gift.

If anyone ever tells you art isn't work, they don't have a clue what they're talking about. It's every bit work. And ack, constant rework because something isn't quite right. An eyebrow arch, a chin the wrong shape, scraping off layers of dried paint to redo something, and the utter dread that you'll wreck the whole thing in the process, or that someone (you) will inadvertently slop coffee on your work in progress...

But then there's that moment, when you hold your work up for inspection, asking tentatively, fearfully, like your entire self worth depends upon it, 'Do you know who this is?' And as they look, you're suspended in time & dread they won't see the person you've thrown your heart into, trying to capture - but they exclaim, 'That's so and so!' And the entire universe begins singing.

(Well, that's a little melodramatic - but you get the drift.)

***

I'm going to a funeral this week. It's been casting a collective dark veil over a community of us. Young man, well loved, tragic end. I'm so saddened. Death is such an overlooked reality in life. All of life races toward it, and we're so ill equipped to deal with it. ]

Why?

***

Well, I can hear my 15 year old daughter and her overnight girlfriend guest rousing in the next room. If I was a real mom, I'd whip out the bacon and eggs, cut fresh oranges & melons and indulge them.

But I think we'll just hop in the car and head to MacDonald's. The food's better there.

Happy weekend.