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vivid
We went to the Farmer’s Market yesterday. This is nothing new. It’s every Saturday and conveniently on our way to Starbucks (not that we go to Starbucks every Saturday or anything). We don’t go every Saturday. Only when the nap schedule conveniently lines up with the chore schedule and we don’t have anything else going on. It’s a nice little outing and a fun way to meet and greet all our neighbors and their dogs. I love our little town.
This Saturday I had just read Dooce’s Month forty-four Newsletter and I was particularly struck with the one line where she writes, “It is a thrilling, exhausting ride with the most vibrant human being I’ve ever known, and my memories of this time are so colorful, so vivid and full of texture. My only sadness is that your memories of this time will not be as clear…”. It’s not like I want to link Dooce or send her anymore traffic. But she is famous for a good reason. She can write a fine sentence.
That sentence is what I’ve been trying to articulate in my mind for months. Life with Baby Bug is SO vivid. Sometimes little too vivid. And it just makes me sad that these memories that we are making right now are never going to be as vivid as they are now. Especially not for Baby Bug. I want to be able to play them back over and over on days when we are not so happy and full of color but I know we can’t do that. So we just have to treasure them now even if we are blinded by them. Whatever. What Dooce said. I can’t say it like she did. But you know what I mean…
While we were at the Farmer’s Market, I was particularly aware how colorful and pretty everything was. I clicked away with my new doltish mini-van camera and tried to capture some of it. Then later, since I was in photoshop anyway adding my new watermark (that I’m NOT so in love with), I tweaked the color and burnt in the edges to make my boring digital photos seem more like how I remembered them. I don’t know if this is fair, tweaking reality to match the picture in your mind… but maybe it will help me remember just how vivid everything once was.
I don’t want to forget. I never want to forget.
Here’s a little something for the grandmas.
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the left behinds
I brought my remaining dog paintings home from the Surf Dog Market yesterday. The Surf Dog Market is closing it’s Redondo Beach location so my paintings need a new place to go live. Somehow the remaining ones look really really sad without all their companion paintings.
I think I have homes for the two big ones but if anybody really really really wants the smaller ones I could probably be convinced to send them to you for the cost of shipping. Or I might just paint over them. I think the little little ones wanted to be painted over. They want to be the story behind the painting. So somebody can say, “This painting used to be “Cool Paw Luke” but now it’s bla bla bla….” I don’t know. It kinda adds to the fun of paintings when they have a long story to go with them.
My favorite painting didn’t sell. I thought it would be a big hit with it’s light feature but maybe it’s just an eyesore. I still really like it. I’m going to give it to my brother. I know he’ll put it up in his bedroom, next to the eleventy-seven other reject paintings I’ve given him over the years. That’s what’s great about family. They like what you paint no matter what it is.
Edited to add:
These are the paintings that are still available:
and the blue coyote one pictured at top. Click on them for more details.
