I see my living room is turning into my studio. Surrounded by
ancient black and white photos of companions and teachers, new watercolors from Lopez Island,
a table of basic color studies, open windows and doors, a camera filled with clouds.
I have retired. A genuine miracle.
Have time to bounce around and attend to what's front and center:
Gardening with landscape fabric that glows gray at twilight.
Setting up a trip to Portland on Amtrack.
Polishing off the spinach ricotta pie.
Splitting Mother's Day coffee chocolates with Bob.
And trying to learn those few main chords.
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