what art show?
Or, more to the point, there was an article in the back of the local weekly newspaper here, and then an announcement on the radio, and then I had to stop thinking about it altogether lest I throw up.
Now it's in the daily paper this morning. And I am so not looking at it. Because. I just can't.
It looks like I'm going to start writing for another site soon. In addition to this, my own blog, of course. It's a site with a journalistic bent, with a terrific, highly talented staff -- most of whom I either know, or know of, from my own days at the newspaper.
What I'm saying is: it's a fine compliment to be invited on board, and I'm most appreciative. I'm also grateful that I haven't been lost and forgotten in my seven dramatic years of seclusion, in which I took monastic oaths, vows of silence, cut my hair and took the veils, or similar. Whew.
I am working on my first column.
I'm very happy about the chance to work again with the people I so enjoyed working with before. It was one of the deepest griefs in getting out of the business, for me --- losing touch with co-workers who had come to be treasured friends. By some fell swoop, a bit of that gift has been restored.
And some of the friends I've had all along -- Melonie, Laura, Heather -- are going to be here this weekend for the art show!
Now I go back to solving the not insurmountable task of framing a 44" x 46" painting. (One thing at a time, you and me, Cristy Lane, all the way.)