Last night we took our 5 year old to The Wizard of OZ. It was a huge production made even larger by the fact that we were in the second row.
I have always loved Dorothy’s ruby slippers, I definitely have a thing for red shoes. (Well, shoes in general, to be honest.) Last night I wore my three inch, T-strap, Kate Spades. They have tiny coral details that I just love. Imogen, who also loves a nice shoe, wore her gold ballerina flats.
I wish people dressed up more to go to the theater. I mean, if we no longer dress up to go to the theater, then when DO we dress up?
This is a little painting I did of one of Scarlett’s favorite shoes (Kenneth Cole). It is mixed media on paper and is 8.5″x11.5″.
Sometimes blending in is an ‘impossibility’.
I did ‘Balanced’ a little while ago but couldn’t help but think how perfect it was for this topic!
Subtracting him from her was painful but made her whole.
He was legendary among the old timers in the lily pond.
Oh, by the way, this one is available as a limited edition reproduction ACEO.
She had wings as intricate and delicate as a butterfly.
Every time she held a balloon she couldn’t help worrying that it just might blow away.
I did this 8″x10″ painting this morning. She looks to the future, I see the past. Somehow we both have to try to enjoy our moments together right now without letting these thoughts get in the way. Somehow, as a Mother, I need to teach her these skills so that she can be content and happy with what she has right now.
Available on etsy.
Little red riding hood knew she shouldn’t have strayed from the path. Her mother had told her not to. It was just that she wanted her grandmother to feel better and knew that the sight of wild flowers would put a smile on her face. But now, it was getting dark and she had the strangest feeling. You know that feeling. Like she was no longer alone. Like someone was watching her.
Little red riding hood stopped picking flowers and stood up straight. Standing silently she listened for movement in the dark woods surrounding her. She moved the freshly picked flowers up toward her face. ‘Maybe their sweet smell would calm her’, she thought to herself, but this feeble gesture did nothing to ease her increasing feeling of dread. The harder she tried to listen, the louder her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She was all at once being taken over by a horrible sense of foreboding. Like she was being devoured, body and soul, by fear itself.
Congratulations Penelope and Colin! Life’s First Breath is always something to ‘celebrate’. My eldest daughter’s first breath was eight minutes to eight in the morning and I am still celebrating the miracle of her birth five years ( and another daughter) later.
(Especially when she goes to bed on time).