The desert sun is such that in winter, when the air is chilly, one can lie on the chaise in ones bikini and listen to the breezes rustle the palm leaves and contemplate ones troubles while gazing at distant snow capped mountains through tropical foliage busy with bright little finches. One can peel the orange picked from trees not twenty feet away and while eating the slices, watch sunlight dance through the clear deep blue of the pool.
There are two seasons in the desert. One is for basking like gods. The other is for fleeing, or cowering like rats. Each lasts exactly as long as the other, with almost no transition between them.
So yes, it’s a paradise in winter and Lisa is basking today…
Well, for a little while. I have a date with Orion in about half an hour for some Fisher Price B-ball. Swoosh!
I am making a mental note to do more basking like a goddess, while the basking is good.Even still. I’m anticipating a trip into some real winter weather in a few weeks. By then, I’ll be longing for cold air on my face and snow under my shoes. Change is good. Too much of anything, including basking, puts our brains to sleep.
Sometime next week Bob Podrasky will be announcing the stories chosen for the Tiny Stories project on his site. I’ll be sure to post a link to it.
Tomorrow will be a full on studio day. We have lots of things that must be done sooner than later. There will be work on our angel gone bad, painting of strange fish and engineering for kinetic fortune tellers. And, of course, the usual verbal Frisbees and shameless Bennisms.
You have indeed escaped another sermon. I’m disgusted beyond talking about anything. I can’t watch Fox news anymore without wanting to shoot the screen. So, if you were wondering where my soapbox is, I’ve put it away to clear my head. I’ll make art instead, for a while. It's in there.