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Donna's Journal
March 18, 2005

    Earth laden, fragrances all but float on the air. There are bright yellow Jonquils, Coral Quince blossoms, wintered over healthy plants that take a position on the warmer patio and for this day all is well, vibrant,  and alive. If we still must worry with counting pennies or should there be other small unpleasantries we are lost in the gentle warm breezes of a new season and could care less, just for today.

     A friend calls,  asks if they may  bring their mother out who is visiting from California,  and we are thankful winter miseries have loosed his grip,  even if for maybe only a day or two. The broad leaves of the richly colored,  purple tropical plants turn a bit in the gentle breezes. A soft pull of that blowing is only a little tinged with coolness.  Light from the strong sun rays penetrates the edges of dark wide leaves. It turns the vein and rims to a vivid hot pink as the light comes through. Small miracles like this are offered and we are relieved from all the woes in the world only for a moment and that is enough.

     Visits from friends during the day make time seem to stand still as we share such wondrous thoughts such as, “ where is Belarus?  New York was a wondrous place to live!”  Or, “My artwork is hanging in our gallery now!”  We come together for only an hour or two.  Though wind blown from the hardest of anguishes  in life, still  here we are, able to laugh and talk about those pains. One of us suffered the most unbelievable circumstances to have lived through.   His tracks tied up with the lifestyle of a child orphaned,  made ragged and in despair,  as a strong Native American,  who lived to write and publish a book about it. All of us in agreement in that our minds give us the freedom to look for so much to do we cannot find enough hours in the day to do it.

      Evening finds me racing to get to an art show sponsored by what I call the artist rebels of our town. They have pulled away from the centrally established art group into this circle of friends who are truly working artists. I'm having to beat myself to go because of all sorts of emotional negativity too layered to discuss. All of it tied up in the nothingness of tribal,  political futility.

     For all that, I'm so glad I was able to rise above all the wicked feelings and low thoughts that were once a wish for sweet  revenge. Some of those, who were there along with the exhibit,  seemed to suddenly be vaporized in thin air. Upon  my appearance they were gone. It was a little laughable and  wasn't my wish for that to happen.

     Everyone was having a gentle, enjoyable moment to admire the art, pick yummy tid-bits from the heavily loaded canape' table and just to generally socialize. Ultimately it was a very good thing for me to have “swallowed”  my pride enough to attend because I made two very good contacts with people from out of town who gave me great advice for promoting my book. Civilized behavior win out and even though the Christian's values are at times a little like illusive, will-o-the wisp butterflies, if we can just reach for them we conquer our own desires. No matter it might feel a little like choking on a raw oyster it is possible to keep silent and reserved, believe it or not. I kept my mouth and mind clean with a running chatter about the excitement of having published a book when I am close to 70. If some of those folks were bored to tears by the prattle I must remember this is better than mouthing some other things just under the surface and on my mind.

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