Compulsive (or perhaps boring) as I am, April 15 holds no dread for me, for I usually have my taxes filed at least a month in advance. Thankfully I have no ancestors who died on the Titanic on this date in 1912. Still April has come to be the hardest month of the year for me. It used to be my most favorite month but now its the month I struggle hardest to pull myself off the pitty pot. Its not only filled with sad personal grievances, including the birthdays of my deceased partner Lee and my niece Jill, it’s the month allergies hit me hardest. Now days, rather than rejoice, I look sadly out the house windows at the beautiful gardens it has taken me four decades to cultivate. Just now there must be thirty iris in bloom (the whites and yellows come first, the darker ones will explode soon) and from my bedroom window I can count at least 100 buds on the roses. I mostly wear a breathing mask just to get to the car port. Poor Bonnie. In desperation for my compromised breathing I’ll be getting a big shot from the doc this afternoon. That will help a bit. This indoor confinement usually lasts till the end of July. What a downer! I remind myself how much I love to read and paint, two activities I can limit to indoors. I think about the contaminated air in Japan right now and those poor folks. I play all kinds of mind tricks, but still my head screams “NO FAIR”.
So it was with pure joy that I welcomed a visit last week from my fun loving friend Nancy from Denver. Nancy entertains me and plays indoor word games with me. Sometimes she lets me win. She even went to watch my pilates class. One of the best things we did was to attend the exhibit Pulp Fashion at the Palace of the Legion of Honor. It featured the Art of Isabelle de Borchgrave, a Belgian painter who interprets early European paintings in paper. Somehow she makes paper look like cloth. Its fantastic, and runs through June 5. A must!
Thanks Nancy, for making my day.