Over a toffee nut latte this morning with Señor España, I mulled over my tendency to switch from one art/craft/project to another like a lights flashing, siren sirening ambulance changes lanes.  Quickly and often.

I wondered aloud if it was necessarily a negative thing, like Project Attention Deficit Disorder (totally making that up…I think) or could it just be ‘ok’?  Is it a sign that I can’t focus and/or am destined to NEVER land on any one artistic language long enough to make it my own…or am I just a project butterfly?   I don’t know.  Setting aside the pondering for now and giving a huge nod to ‘lightly’.  Current lane change detailed below.

Years (and years and years and years) ago, my mom began crocheting a rag rug for me but for one reason or another set it aside and there it sat.  For years.  Like 35 years.

This weekend a friend came over with a handful of crochet hooks and a large dose of ‘instructor patience’ and taught me what I need to know to pick up where mom left off and finish the rug.   I’m giving it a practice shot with an old sheet, some fabric of gramma’s and a skirt that hasn’t been worn in ages and was begging to be turned into something useful.

Mr. Clown and his lemon buddies are available on Etsy.

There’s a little, old lady that lives across the street.  The only verbal interaction we’ve had was confusing (I’m still not certain we speak the same language), stressful, and not anything I wish to repeat.  We tend to leave our houses at the same time each morning….she already in her taupe sedan, (having wrangled The Club off the steering wheel) as I walk to my car.

Here’s the beauty of it all…we’ve gotten into the habit of waving to each other…once as I pass her car walking from the house to my driveway and again after I back out past her (she’s a big fan of warming up her engine).  The best part….HUGE grins, on BOTH of our faces.  I honestly look forward to this every day and am a bit disappointed when I don’t see her little face peering out the window at me from her driver’s seat.

“Friends” that never speak to each other.  Funny.  I like it.

A recent ‘must rearrange furniture’ storm passed through my veins and what used to look like this has now become

Ahhh…..had I known JUST how much BETTER this arrangement would feel (my back is no longer facing a wide, open space / I can actually REACH the blind wands now to invite the sun and fresh air in, lala lalalala! / getting things in and out of the cabinet no longer involves gymnastics) I would have done it ages ago.  Hindsight.

The sailboat painting (by Mati Rose) is part of my s-l-o-w-l-y growing ‘original art’ collection…I’ll show them all to you soon.

Mr. DeMille…they’re ready for their close-ups now (the bits and pieces of ‘inspiration’ that live here, that is).

Where I’m ‘from’ – dad striking a pose at the Grand Canyon and mom striking pose…well…anywhere and everywhere.  (I don’t know the tub girls..just ADORE the image).

Yes to ‘happy days’.  Yes.

and a few others in progress…

Delighted by some mailbox goodies (“secret messages”…SWOON!) ordered from MessyCanvas (thank you, Miss Mandy!) Three cheers (fist in the air Julia Roberts / Pretty Woman style) – for ripening.

…and finally got around to posting some artwork that’s been waiting patiently for its coming out party.  C’mon you little pieces you…sashay your itty bitty hearts out.

Wh-what was that?  Sunlight?   Ah….yes, that’s sunlight you see in the photos above.  It’s been a “warmthebones” weekend and a  ’sundress Sunday’.  Thank.  Goodness.

Last night Señor Portillo and I decided a walk was on the dinner menu…so we laced up our sneakers, donned our winter coats and walked downtown (5 miles roundtrip) for a bowl of noodle soup.  On the way, bell tower chimes rang out as we crossed the Guadalupe River bridge – pure magic. Curiosity begs the question ~ What’s the furthest you’d walk for a meal?

And finally….a journey rescued from the memory archives, dusted off and mixed with some paint:

Driving in the desert years ago…the sun rising on the road ahead of me and the moon in my rear view mirror.  Sometimes the soul is absolutely forced to take notice and it ((sighs)).  Such well timed beauty.