Wednesday, August 02, 2006


Just a few weeks ago, thinking about moving into J~'s house made me a little depressed. Although the place is sweet in (almost) every other way, it's dark and stagnant, somehow. My apartment, although in an ugly, crowded neighborhood, is bright and airy.

Then J~ became determined to get rid of some of the trees encroaching on the house, causing increasingly moldy, mildewy conditions. I was thrilled.

It would be several weeks, we thought, until our chosen contractor could do the work. But, as it happens, we received a last-minute call: he had an opening for Monday. Three days later, voila: Light. Air flow. And a much sunnier, suddenly larger yard.

"It feels like a gift from the gods that this happened before I move in," I told J~. We were strolling downtown, stretching our legs before dinner. I was talking excitedly, anticipating the moment when I'm fully moved in and can begin to focus on my art and writing. I plan to drop a hefty chunk of savings very soon on a good digital camera, a lens or two, lights, and a tripod, so that I might begin documenting my artwork. As we were walking, I noticed a tripod set out on the curb with someone's trash. And in an open trash bag: a brand new art set in a big wooden box.

Talk about gifts from the gods!

Guess I've got my work cut out for me.

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