Nenikikamen revisited

I'm finding my way! Just spent about an hour with my painting. The paint's very weird. It's not oil, exactly. But it's not acrylic. It's a weird amalgam that I'm still trying to grow accustomed to. I definitely miss the bounce-bounce of stretched canvas, so I doubt I'll use canvas board again.

The medal was very hard to sketch out and I'm equally afraid of putting the base coat of color on it. Metal is notoriously difficult to capture. And the shoe is very, very complex. I'm glad I chose to do this small (it's about 10 1/2 x 12). Although I'm engrossed with it, I'm always thinking one or two paintings ahead. I start class at SAIC on Feb. 9 (if it doesn't get cancelled for low enrollment) and I have an idea for a series that could be dynamite. And I have a running picture of a friend that will translate very sweetly to paint (or pastel, I'm not sure yet). But, til then, there's Nenikikamen.

Some of my friends ask me about my painting process. At home, I have to be alone. I need music. I sing along with the music-- badly. I dance, too. Tonight it's Lady Gaga and me doing "Bad Romance." I lose myself in it-- it's a complete focus. Hard to explain. Random thoughts come and go, but mostly it's color, shape, relationship, music and emotion. It's a heck of a lot of fun.

Hopefully it will take me to a good place. I'll keep you posted.

You are precious in my eyes, and glorious, and I love you

That saying (I'm pretty sure it's a Bible verse) was engraved on a pen that Bro. Donald Richard gave all of the 1981 graduating seniors at Bishop Carroll High School and I've remembered it all this time. It comes to mind now when I'm thinking about my friend Sue.

I first met Sue at work several years ago. What I noticed about her was her positive attitude, her ready smile and her utter selflessness. She was there, always, for all of us. And she was a heck of a lot of fun to be around. She refers to our little group as "partners in crime" and we are.

At that time, she had problems with her knees and sometimes I'd notice that she had a hard time even walking. But instead of becoming overwhelmed with pity, Sue took action and changed her life for the better with exercise. She's now a seriously badass triathlete who ogles bikes like most women ogle men.

We've had many wacky adventures together. One time, Sue cajoled me into doing an indoor triathlon with her. I was already a runner, and growing up in Western PA with all those hills and no mass transit system to speak of, I was well schooled on the bike. That left swimming. I doggie paddle and it ain't pretty. During the "race," grandmothers were beating me in the pool and I cracked myself up at how poorly I was doing; many times I was just clinging onto the side laughing. Yet there was Sue at the side of the pool urging me on, screaming my name as loud as she could. Embarassing, yes, but very touching.

Another time, Teresa, Sue and I decided to do the Polar Plunge in Lake Michigan. I forget the exact date, but it was arctic outside. We all wore bikinis and Sue furnished us with tiaras and white feather boas to complete our outfits. I've never been so cold in my life, but yet I'm warm every time I think of that story. It's a happy memory.

Yet another time, we celebrated her 50th birthday together with wild and crazy dancing and tons more laughter. We've run races together... a lot of them. She was the volunteer who took off my chip and gave me a hug when I finished a half marathon. We just did a Halloween run as the Rice Krispie kids.

My absolute best Sue story, though, is the Chicago Marathon 2006. Halfway through training, I suffered a lower back injury and really had no business doing the race in that condition. I managed okay til about mile 22, then it went rapidly downhill for me. I was in tears with agony and could barely walk a step and was on the verge of exiting the course and not finishing the race. Then, from out of nowhere, Sue suddenly appeared next to me on the road. She had been waiting for hours in miserable weather conditions just to be there for me. She put her arm around me, told me she loved me and urged me to keep going. She took a few steps with me and held me up. She gave me the courage to go on with the race. There are many people whose love was invaluable to me during my marathon experience, but I can honestly say that it was Sue who was responsible for me finishing that race. I will remember that my entire life.

Sue's now in the hospital in New York. She had a sudden, serious health issue while visiting her daughter. Still, she's e-mailing her friends and looking forward to our next adventures. What a great spirit. What a great person. Get well soon, my friend.

No one's a stranger on New Year's Eve

I just had the best New Year's Eve EVER. Yes, I know I'm prone to exuberance, but I mean it... really.

Our typical New Year's Eve is that of a boring middle-aged couple. Staying home with movies on the DVD and a bunch of junk food in our bellies. Poor John kisses the cats at the stroke of midnight because I'm asleep.

This year, however, we decided to go out. So we spent a stupid amount of money to attend a party at the Hyatt Regency. Why? Hello! Our favorite band, 7th Heaven, was playing there. First thing I did a few days before was to go in search of a new frock. I don't wear dresses much. It's not that I object to dresses. I like them. It's a panty hose thing. Me in panty hose is like an animal caught in a trap. I'd almost be willing to chew my legs off to get a break from the discomfort. But I wanted to be festive. My go-to store is Filene's Basement (bow your head when you say that name), and it did not disappoint. Ding-ding-ding... tried on three dresses and the first one fit perfectly and I loved it. Better yet-- $24!! I also scored a new dress shirt and tie for John so that we'd coordinate-- which he promptly rejected when I brought it home in favor of a shirt that is, in my opinion, not as stylin'. Ah, but he's a Taurus. Whatever.

We took a cab there. Some anxious moments on my part. I'm phobic about being late to anything. If it starts at 8:30, I want to be there at 8:15. Cabs were hard to find but we got there only a few minutes late.

The buffet food was tasty and I enjoyed people watching. Then the music. Oh, the music! Those of you who know me know that I'm really passionate about this band. So much so that they should pay me. If you're in Chicago, go see them sometime. If not, check out the videos on their website at http://www.7thheavenband.com/.

A 7th Heaven concert is a full contact sport. Watch out, ladies and gentlemen, I played hockey. And I'm not shy. I know where I want to be... right up against the stage and I ain't moving for no one or nothing. Of course, it helps to have a husband who is 6'2" and 230 pounds to run interference.

They played 4 sets and it went on and on. Pure bliss. Joie de vivre to the max. We met some nice people and partied like it was 2010. I once ran a marathon and it was pure agony. Dancing all night in high heels is the inner circle of agony. I screamed like a groupie (I am) until I couldn't talk any more and I don't expect to regain my hearing til some time in April. I adore these guys. They're so talented and gosh darn, so cute. My favorite is Nick-- when he does Your Love, I go into orbit. John has a bit of a man-crush on Mark, the bass player. Mark's signature is to play barefoot, so I'm convinced it's a podiatry thing.

Usually I hate crowds and get very nasty when someone's in my personal space, but all kinds of violations occurred and it didn't bother me in the least. When I pondered that aloud to John, why I was cool with it, he offered this bit of wry wisdom-- "boys and booze." I'm not a big drinker-- it gets me dizzy and sick and I'm afraid of it, so I only had two glasses of wine. I think I was high on the night, the people, the music. Happy 2010, everyone.