Ah yes. As all weekend mornings should begin. Cuppa coffee, sunroom, hawk friend.
What’s the eye in the sky prediction this morning?
We took the kids out to brunch at St. Francis Fountain (Vegan Rancheros, while listening to The Ramones and begging the kids to stop sliding under the table) and then walked a block to Galeria de la Raza.
If you’ve been with me for a while, you might remember this 37th birthday party. I still have blank skulls and molds at home, but it was jolly nice to have someone else set it up, provide the decorations…and to leave them with the mess.
Fern and I made owls, Jeff and Leo made skulls.
In the spirit of keeping it real, this happens at least once a day.
She got over it as soon as we got to the new splash pad at 19th and Valencia.
Saturday and Sunday, our indian summer returned full force and it was HOT. Perfect day for it.
A friend recently forwarded this article to me, about the atrocious rental market in the Bay Area. In short, it’s as severe as the dot com bubble (In 2000, prices sky rocketed and I suddenly realized I probably could never move from my rent controlled flat unless I had a significant jump in income). As Fern reaches new cognizant levels, I have to face reality…which is that she is not getting the childhood on a farm that I had hoped for her. So I do things like remember how pretty SF architecture is, and that it’s still the best city ever. Except for Paris. Can we move to Paris?
We got home and set up the altar for the Angelitos, in preparation for the spirits of children who will begin their visit on the 31st.
It hasn’t been my intention to trump Halloween, yet our tradition for this time of year has emerged of it’s own accord. With very little introduction from me, Fern has delved into The Happy Dead and is delighted for every bit of it. She wants to light candles on the altar, she asks for Muertos coloring pages every day, she loves having this book read to her and has been intently interested in helping create the little altar for the Angelitos. All while showing considerable restraint regarding the temptation of candy and sugar skulls.
I made my little owl as a stream of consciousness while helping the kids. When I was done, I looked at it in surprise. It looks, in some way, like everything I have ever made. It looks like me. Bored with my artistic style, I wanted to criticize it and then thought, The work is about accepting things as they are, right now. Not how they could or should be. That’s tough for me, when I have a chronically dissatisfied mind that can see in so many directions at once, a belly that is shrieking at me to bolt and a heart with a love of refined beauty. It’s hard to not want that over there. Then I blink fast and shake the starlight out of my eyes, so I can better see the gentle sparkle of what is before me.
First World problems and all that. Still, I want what I want. And…
(Girls, do you love her style, or what?)
I’m concerned for y’all on the East Coast who are about to get pounced by Frankenstorm. Let’s have an ongoing roll call here…let me know you are safe and dry?