Plein air paintings, studio art and lessons
The other night, on our way down the bike trail, a ladybug landed on my arm and it hitched the whole 9 miles to the brewery. I made sure it stayed safe because there’s no insect cuter and I’m all for public transit.
With it in mind, I got to work last night at my desk. It’s a great group; I love this nature journal exchange we’ve got going on at Moly_x_9.
I’m mailing Scoach’s Moleskine journal tomorrow an it’s headed for Hawaii.
He’ll call me around 6 from Streetlight Records in San Jose, telling me he’s found the vinyl he was looking for. The night is young and it’s ours, only us, but I run through the house in a delightful frenzy kissing the boys in one room, only to meet them across the house seconds later to kiss them again there. I always worry they will fall asleep without brushing their teeth. Or fall into the bathtub. Or involuntarily kill each other…those last minutes are restless. But once I’m on the road, it’s all good.
In fifteen minutes I’ve woven a peaceful thread around pedestrian traffic along the creek trail. My muscles are warm and loose and my soul is finally free. I sit at an outdoor table and order a pint of ale under palm trees and tall buildings. A crow flies directly across the peach evening sky. The smoke lingers, still without a smell; affecting no one, it exhumes the sun, a giant apricot, into its velvet folds and I sit there squinting in my chair with a foam moustache. Damon rides up alongside the table, golden with sweat and grinning. All eyes are upon him as he leans his bike next to mine against that palm tree. It’s hard not to swell with affection for this man.
We stay for another round, then bolt through traffic on into San Jose, where we stay a while eating red beans and rice, cajun shrimp and Turbodog to the beat of a blues trio. And then another round.
The trail, at night, is dark as pitch and it’s easy to spill over a catfight. So we slip out of the void and back onto the street, where we glide past rows of underlit palms and pawn shops and good folk waving us on. It’s a righteous pass through the soul of any city, un-tucked for the night but singing itself to sleep. There are no pretenses, just us laughing down the street half-drunk and whizzing off and on curbs because we can and because we should.
There are some things we do because it seems possible, and then there are things we take on because we like the challenge, and then there are things that seem dreadfully hopeless and guaranteed to fail us yet we attempt these feats because to succeed makes us better than we were before.
I’ve kept it quiet until now but I’d better put it out there now like undies on the clothesline: I’m running the Nike Women’s Marathon this fall and I’m going to running the entire 26.2 miles in honor of all the people in this world who are battling blood cancers. As a runner for Team in Training I’m standing here with my hands in my pockets, terrified, asking for you to make a tremendous difference to people who have, without discrimination, been diagnosed and are battling leukemia, lymphoma, Hodgkin lymphoma and myeloma. These are diseases that know no race, no religion, no commonality besides being HUMAN. And I’ve wept through too many cases already not to push through my insecurities and ask for your help.
And, as with all efforts, every. little. bit. helps. I’ve been told that, at the rate we’re going with research, the Leukemia and Lymphoma Society predict that we will have a cure for blood diseases by 2012. You can help make this happen.
Please go visit my TNT fundraising page and read more about what every dollar will afford to a person who is undergoing treatment. It will clarify the ambiguities of your donation.
Also, leave me a comment if you know someone who is either diagnosed with, in remission from or who has died from a blood cancer. I would like to mention that person to the world and honor him or her in my efforts.