early mother's day

I'm starting to think about what to get my mom for Mother's Day this year. Last year, all us girls in the family got together and made a meal. A month later I treated her to a day at a quaint, little spiritual community about an hour from where she lives. That was great.

This year I'd like to give her something that'll really turn her crank. A hot Latin lover. The one in this picture will be just fine. Can't see the prize, but it's probably pretty safe to assume all is adequate in that department! Mom is 70+ but has always loved men. (It runs in the family.) And she loves guys with the Spanish/Latin look, so I have picked this one out especially for her.

Have fun, Mama! Love ya.

precious

I love that the value of some things in life simply can't be measured. I love how everyone is different, we see things differently, and we all value different things. And how the smallest, seemingly trivial things can be monumental to others. The quintessential beauty in the eye of the beholder.

Andy retired his favorite brush this week. It is the one pictured on the right (duh). Needless to say it was a sad parting for him. It had given him the best years of its life, and maybe his too. It was perfect for making nice crisp lines to emphasize the shapes he draws and paint the words that are the substance of the art he creates.

I was afraid he might toss the brush, so I asked if I could have it. He could have probably sold it on eBay or saved it a few years and auctioned it off for millions (I have faith in his success), but NOPE, he said he'd give it to me. He said he wanted me to have it.

Suhweeeeet! When I look at that brush, I see something precious...well, first I laugh, cuz hell, look at it! It's so quirky just like him. But it's so much more than a paintbrush. It's an extension of his arm, his passion, his mind. I imagine the hours he has held that brush in his hand, the colors and canvasses it has touched, the long nights it has seen.

It also represents how hard he's worked, this man who's pushed himself to do things he never thought that he could do, let alone be successful at. He will be the first to tell you he can't draw. Yet, he is now so successful that he can't keep up with the work that people want him to do. He is a rising star. And I am the proud owner of his paintbrush.