Wishful Thinking

The idea for this illustration came to me while standing in line outside the career center. The sun was coming up (told ya the line forms early for free classes), and our long shadows stretched out across the adjacent landscaping.

Fledglings and Painting Notes

Spring is in the air, and so are the fledglings. They go whiffling around the neighborhood, practicing their frantic acrobatics. Occasionally they crash land in my garden. I want to pick them up and put them in my pocket. I want to pat their fuzzy heads and feed them tidbits. I wait anxiously and watch for passing cats, hoping they make it into the nearest tree.

Maybe I had the fledglings in mind when I painted this picture. Maybe I was thinking of the story I started writing months ago. I haven’t had time to work on it, but it flaps around in my head anyway. It’s about a bird (not the one in the picture). I know how I want the book to look. I see the shades of blue the sky ought to be and how scruffy the main character is. I painted the picture to remind me, when I find time to work on it.

Do the mama birds wonder where the time goes?

The Art of Reading Coincidences

I pay attention to coincidences. I always think there could be a message there. The trouble is it isn’t always easy to interpret what the message might be.

I don’t know how many times I’ve sent manuscripts out only to receive rejections all at once, within a day of each other. It doesn’t matter if I sent several different pieces out, or if they were sent months apart. If they’re going to be rejected, the rejections always come at the same time.

Naturally, I find that discouraging. It’s pretty hard not to jump to conclusions about what the universe is trying to tell you. My husband, the unrelentingly optimistic one, thinks this is the universe’s way of letting me get bad news over with at once, sparing me multiple days of misery. This way I spend less time feeling sorry for myself and more time on the business of writing and trying to find the right place for my work. I like his theory, but either way, I require a good amount of chocolate.

I pondered the meaning of all this after my last clump of rejections arrived. My son and I were taking the dog for her nightly walk. I was absorbed in my own troubles when I noticed how clear the night sky looked, and how many stars were out. I suddenly thought to myself that it’d been an awfully long time since I’d seen a shooting star, and wouldn’t it be nice to see one right now?

Less than a minute later I saw it – a flick of white across the black sky, as brief as a blink. I gasped, and then caught myself. I didn’t want to say anything out loud, since I’d probably just imagined it. Then my son, who’d caught my surprised expression, said, “I saw it too!”

I don’t know what it meant. But it did make me feel better.

Southwest Fall Color

Since I grew up on the east coast, I get all moony for fall foliage around this time of year. Once again I’ll settle for watching the autumnal spectacle unfold on the internet.

While driving around the other day, I noticed our own autumn palette really isn’t too shabby. There’s soft sage and rust, terracotta and steely blues. If the northeast corner is the big brass band of pigment performance, the southwest is a nice wind ensemble. We’ve got deciduous trees. Sure, the sycamores go right to an unremarkable brown, but the cottonwoods will at least have the decency to turn bright yellow.

These are some pictures I took around Old Mission Dam in Mission Trails Regional Park. It's still early. Stay tuned for more yellow:

What color is your world?

Wishing and Wondering

We're just a couple of weeks into the new school year, and we're already sharing our first case of the sniffles. Rather than try to think of something to write, I decided I'd post an illustration.

Looking at this painting again made me think that I wish my head didn't feel as though it were full of sawdust, and I wonder if fudgesicles would really be such a bad idea for dinner.

I wish the new season of LOST were starting sooner, and I wonder if we'll be seeing more of Desmond this year...

I wish I could get to the hair salon more often, and I wonder if the trim I gave myself is really as crooked as I think it is. Maybe if I tilt my head, no one will notice.

What do you wish? What do you wonder?

I Guess It Really Does Happen to Everyone

After I posted some of my more ridiculous moments last Friday, my husband reminded me of the following story. And what better day than April Fool’s Day to celebrate tales of foolishness:

A scientist attended a banquet in his honor. He became distracted during the dinner and started figuring equations in a notebook. He was lost in thought when the crowd stood and began applauding. His personal secretary caught his attention and motioned for him to stand.

Noticing the standing ovation, he quickly stood and enthusiastically joined in. His secretary then had to come and inform him that the applause was in fact for him. The daydreaming scientist was Albert Einstein.

That anecdote is mentioned in his biography, Einstein: His Life and Universe by Walter Isaacson. Another story describes how Einstein enjoyed taking long rambling walks. On one such occasion he phoned his institute and asked for Dr. Einstein’s address. When the person on the phone informed him that information was private, he lowered his voice and admitted that it was Dr. Einstein on the phone, and that he couldn’t remember where he lived.

At least I feel better now.

Seaside Dreaming

I’ve been thinking the view from my next house should be something like this:



In the morning I’ll sit on the balcony and drink something with a little umbrella in it. The outside temperature will cooperate. I’ll soak up all the sun I want and never get wrinkled. Some magical cream made with seaweed gel will promise to keep my skin soft and supple. The seagulls will keep their distance.



However, these guys will be welcome anytime.

Of course I’ll need a new means of transportation. It will have to be something sleek, with a posh interior and lots and lots of leg room. If I can’t be taller, I can at least have leg room.



This looks about right. Someone else will have to drive, though, because I will be much, much too busy trying to decide what color visor looks best with my adjustable forward deck sun pad. (Note to self: must check to see if Jimmy Choo flip-flops really do exist.)

When I get hungry I’ll pull up to my favorite seaport spot for lunch.



They will know better than to offer me white chocolate. I’ll go there every day and never have to set foot on one of these:

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In the evening I’ll stretch out on a teakwood lounge on the back lawn. Someone will bring me a drink in a coconut shell. The mosquitoes will keep their distance. I’ll enjoy the sunset and wonder…



…why do tourists keep strolling though my back yard?