Is there really anything like an opening night? Whether for a drama or an opera or an art gallery, there is always fabulous energy and excitement. I am delighted to be part of California Dreaming, featuring sculpture and drawings and paintings, at Dorado 806, once again this year. Being around artists, who support and encourage each other, and seeing your art in the myriad of expressions, just feels like the family you always wanted.
Recently I had the pleasure of watching Downton Abbey: The Grand Finale in the movie theater. It was an absolute gift to visually stroll about upstairs and down along side those wonderful characters who have grown so dear to us the past 15 years. “Lest we worry about too many changes, Julian Fellowes’s script is stuffed with comforting constants: Lady Mary will be indiscreet, Carson the butler will be scandalized, Lord Grantham will find something to be huffy about and the family will face financial ruin” (New York Times). I can’t think of a better week than this one to escape from headlines and our diminishing democracy, even though I must admit more than an escape is needed. It isn’t even shocking to see such stalwart allegiance to the 2nd Amendment in contrast to the broad dismissal of the 1st Amendment to the United States Constitution as we become a country that fears a jester’s words more than a lunatic’s firearm. There is no push by this administration to reduce gun violence, only the swift sword curtailing free speech. LBJ was a different guardian of the White House when he shared, “It is part of the price of leadership of this great and free nation to be the target of clever satirists. You have given the gift of laughter to our people. May we never grow too somber or self-important that we fail to appreciate the humor in our lives.” Our would-be-king-president reacts differently, by silencing all who don’t echo his mountain of lies. Perhaps, just for today, for your mental health or for a little chuckle, treat yourself to Downton Abbey’s “yummy photography, stunning set pieces and Lady Mary trying on as many fabulous frocks as possible“(New York Times). Of course I hope you read my decade old post first.
I see my life flipping back through the album bin. Where did I really start? Probably when my parents met, when for a fleeting second they played with cousins and friends on a beach that eventually became home to all of us once we too arrived on the scene. But back then it was just theirs to run on. So perhaps, this album would be called “Run On Babe.” Their’s was an epic run as was most pictured here along side the colored cabanas resting on that rocky Long Island northern shore. Perhaps you can hear strands of Sinatra and Fitzgerald crooning while surrounded by a big band filling the sultry heat of a beachy summer night?
Nine Cent Girl 