The Bart

I've spent over a year working on this painting--it's a large, colorful abstract inspired by a photograph I took at a quilt show when I visited in Santa Monica a few years ago. I worked the surface layering paint and glazes over the colors enjoying the process and the outcome. Once it was declared finished, I hung it on the kitchen wall. My son immediately declared that the image looked like Bart Simpson in sunglasses. I never saw it--but now I can't look at the painting without seeing Bart. Geez!

Summer of Love

Last night, one of the best rock and roll guitarists ever(according to Rolling Stone) came to for dinner. We've known him since he was 16 and the lead guitar player in my husband's high school band. He's been temporarily put out of his apartment because of water damage, so he's "on the road" as he puts it. We weren't going to have him over last night, but through an email miscommunication, he showed up. We thawed another steak and mashed another potato and had dinner. I never saw anyone eat so much and after a few glasses of wine, he began a familiar monologue on the summer of love--1967 when his band had a contract with Capitol records and life was one big love-in. I love hearing the stories, but I wish he lived more in the now.

When it got late, it became clear that he had no place to go...so we extended our guest room for ONE NIGHT ONLY... letting him know that we had just had family visit and expected more today. We've been to this party before---several years ago his van broke down in Detroit and he stayed over for several days--burning incense and meditating in our family room. He broke the lock on our door that time. It was an accident, of course, but an expensive one.

This time, he had a travel bag packed with his special honey, green tea bags, a change of clothes, his signature straw hat, and some brandy--everything a guy on the road needs. This morning, he eschewed the eggs for breakfast in favor of tea and toast; he took a bath and changed into clean clothes. Before he left, he autographed a CD for us, thanked us profusely and hit the road. His car sounds like a jet taking off--it's needed a new muffler for almost six months. He's got guitars worth thousands of dollars and %30 bottles of wine in the trunk--but no muffler.

For the first time in my life, I felt like I was in the middle of a Broadway musical. Imagine crossing Our Town with Hair and add in a little Neil Simon dialogue. The opening scene is the old Grandee Ballroom and the band is playing loudly--the overhead projector spills wavy colored light on the walls. The air is heavy and sweet.

Spring in the A2

It's been uncommonly sunny in Ann Arbor these past couple of weeks, although cold. Still, there's something stirring. The squirrels are aggressively robbing the bird feeders and we're going to have to stop storing the beer on the deck. We had 6 boxes of Girl Scout cookies and now we're down to 2. We've watched all but 7 episodes of the 6th season of Northern Exposure, eaten 8 of the 10 pounds of potatoes we stored in the garage. We know how to hunker down.