On Thursday, I rescued four pieces of art from my storage unit. They currently reside in my rental car. I intend to ship one of them out to California each time I visit. I can’t afford to do all of them at once. I’m not sure where I will store the others but when Paula K-V warned me of rodents which eat canvas, I knew that I couldn’t let them suffer.
I made First Friday last night by 5:30, wrapping my arms around Ruthie Becker as we stood in her Gallery 504, me clutching a dozen purple tulips which had seemed to be a fitting gift for this stunning soul. Once the flowers had been safely stowed in a vase, we raised a toast to lasting friendships. David Hughes sat at the bar beside me, reciting poetry. It might have been any First Friday, any month, of any year. I felt as though I had never left.
Then the door opened to reveal the beaming smile of Genevieve Casey.
Her photograph “Floating” will be the first of the rescued works to make its way to Angel’s Haven. I have saved a spot for it above my kitchen counter. With her husband Wes, she made a special trip to the Crossroads last night to see me. My heart lifted. Some people bring their light wherever they go. Genevieve’s radiance precedes her into a room and lingers long after any evening ends.
A little while later, another graceful spirit came to sit by me, the goddess of play therapy, Sara Minges. If my heart had received any more wonder by that time, it might have taken flight. I found myself floating, any lingering worry falling away, all tension easing from my hunched shoulders. I let the nastiness of small-minded people slough to the floor, trampled under dancing feet. I do not need those relics of my mistaken alliances.
I’ll take the warmth which surrounded me everywhere I went this week back to California. It will sustain me as I continue to restructure my days. I have wicked good friends. I cannot ask for anything more than that.
It’s the third day of the fifty-first month of My Year Without Complaining. Life continues.
Genevieve Casey and me