LIVING WITH ART BLOG

Am I the only person whose mother gifted her with a thoughtful and elegant Easter Basket for almost 60 years? If not the only one, I bet I am in a very select category. From the time I was an infant, until she died, my Mother decided to make Easter my special holiday. When I was four, my basket contained a map of the backyard which led me to a live white Bunny Rabbit. Ms. Bunny and I immediately bonded. When I let her out of her specially made container, she would stay by my side. When I was with her I did not walk or run, I hopped...

Spring began strutting its stuff Tuesday and Wednesday of this week. The air was still a bit crisp, but the light was amazing. While taking my dog for a walk, I felt like my body and soul were starting to emerge from their winter cocoon. Yesterday a friend sent me a pot of beautiful hydrangeas that were a kind of “Persian Melon” color that I have always associated with Spring...

As I watched the blanket of ice and snow outside my window changing colors throughout the day yesterday, it was difficult to believe that technically “white” is an absence of color. White, along with black, are not considered colors by those who study that sort of thing, but are believed to only be “shades.” The snow I watched certainly didn’t appear to be a “shade.” In fact, it seemed to me that new and brilliant colors surfaced almost every hour. The snow was and continues to present a luminous and glorious universe.

This week, the sons of a recently deceased patriarch invited me to visit his home to look and evaluate the art their father had acquired during his lifetime. The family, like most caring responsible families, needed information before they could responsibly dispose of his collection. They wanted to know the value of the objects which had been entrusted to them before distributing them to specific family members or having them sold in an estate sale. Bringing in an outsider was a good move on their part. Disposing of the possessions of a departed loved one can cause a lot of conflict. I know, because members of my own family of origin became estranged when my mother died...

This past Sunday, I was surprised and heartened to see a cartoon in the “Oklahoman” which depicted a teacher who decided to organize a field trip to an art Gallery for her elementary students. Upon entering the Gallery the teacher spots a painting she likes and says, “Look children, this is a nice one.” Her comments are immediately interrupted by the exhibiting artist, “Kletch,” who is lurking nearby, and says: “Nice? NICE” ???!!! Madam, you LOOK but you do not SEE!, I Kletch, as a Visionary, do not DO ‘NICE!..."

...I started thinking about all the trips we had taken together over the years; all the valuable information it had stored for me and how it was always happily available every hour of every day. Telling myself that it was only a machine and it could be replaced with a new laptop with more amenities didn’t make me feel any better. In fact, I became acutely aware that I was grieving the loss of an inanimate object...

Three things happened this week that have given me renewed optimism about finding a successful path to an interesting and vibrant future. First, a foundation board on which I have agreed to serve requested an updated biography. Drafting that summary reminded me of the long winding path my life has taken. It reminded me of the difficulties and challenges I had to overcome. Second, I received a fourth quarter earnings report from a banker I know on which he had handwritten, “I don’t know what normal is anymore, but I am looking forward..."

When I turned on the ignition in my car yesterday morning, the dash lit up with several indicator and warning lights including the “Check Engine Light,” “Low Engine Oil Light,” “Charging System Warning Light,” “Tire Pressure Warning Light,” and most frightening of all, a message I had never seen before: “See the Dealer.” Thoroughly panic stricken, I drove very slowly to Bob Howard Toyota in Edmond. Although the service attendant who checked me in was very reassuring, I could tell he was somewhat perplexed by the sheer number of symbols and warnings that had been activated. As requested, I went to the waiting room and started my daily routine of reading texts and emails and listening to voice messages. In about an hour or so a service attendant came out and asked me who had last put air in my tires. I told him that an employee had after my Tire Pressure Warning light had come on when the temperature dropped. The service attendant told me that instead of 38 pounds of air in each tire, my employee had put 80 pounds in each tire. Hence all lights became activated signaling that something was wrong. The attendant highly recommended that next time I have someone who knows more about cars than art manage the air in my tires.

Remember the song, “What a Difference a Day Makes?” Well 12 months can really make a difference. This time last year Oklahoma City was undergoing “the ice storm of the century.” The recent weather in Oklahoma City has been mild and quite beautiful. Nevertheless, when a neighbor reminded me of what we all went through this time last year, I decided to revisit “Ice Princess,” the Blog I wrote this time last year.

Over the past couple of months, I have noticed that almost everyone I talk with states that they are either tired or exhausted during the course of the conversation. The “tired conversation” began in earnest with the spread of Covid. The state of tiredness was an early symptom of Covid. Feeling extreme fatigue was diagnosed as a lingering symptom of long Covid. But recently the majority of my friends and business acquaintances have begun stating they are “exhausted.” I have also noticed that while I get physically tired during the day, with rest, that condition abates. But the feeling of exhaustion cannot be relieved by just resting. The exhaustion I experience is as mental and emotional as it is physical. My feelings of exhaustion seem to gain momentum when I have to make decisions. Consequently, I became curious about the increasing weight of decision making and started digging around a bit for probable causes.