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And it’s off…

The newsletter went out. If you had asked me this morning or this afternoon if that was going to happen, I would have looked at you skeptically, re-positioned myself under my super soft fuzzy blanket on the couch, and pressed play on the next episode of “Offspring.”

Yesterday did me in and today I was exhausted and in a lot of pain. But a brief bit of energy came my way this evening and I was able to get it on its way. If you think you should have gotten one in your inbox but didn’t, let me know.

Take that, deadline.

I live with a collection of chronic health challenges, the most debilitating of which is Chronic Fatigue. But once in a while I’m able to focus and motivate myself for longer than usual. Today was one of those days!

I forgot half my breakfast in the toaster. Took some pictures. Made a couple of things. Forgot to eat lunch. Edited. Wrote a little. Did remember to walk Marigold Dog. Pushed and pushed and pushed to hit the project deadline. Which I did!

Then promptly collapsed. Like I do.

Which means it included leftover gluten-free dairy-free pizza and no beer, just water.

Tomorrow will probably be extra hard. Luckily, all I have to do is facilitate a two hour conversation about death.


My friend Willow has a great word: exfrightening. It’s the perfect word to describe how I feel about the upcoming 27th Annual Ithaca Artist Market.

I’ve never really stopped painting, but painting moved into a private place in my life about 20 years ago. In fact for a while, I was almost downright secretive about it. I kept my studio door closed. Apparently I had some things to work out.

One of those quiet whispers, the kind that we so often brush off, led me to apply for the market this past spring. Eep! I got in. And now I find myself preparing for a show for the first time in two decades. Exfrightening is where it’s at.