|Spring Cycle--a story in weaving and embroidery|
of the earth coming alive in Spring.
The embroidery is done, and currently being sewn to my favorite jean jacket.
|The newest member of the hippo clan wanted to say "Hello."|
I found my first love in the early days of finding myself, when all was new and intense, we (the country) were at war (as always), society was in an uproar of competing ideologies (as always), the economy was difficult (as always), but young people had love, and hope that peace and prosperity could become a reality. Well, that first love came and went. We know what happens with the cycles of social change (they come and they go). Once again I found love, only this time his vows were for the long haul, and two weeks ago we celebrated our 20th anniversary.
|Two loves: My Man and the energy of the city|
|Of course I'm smiling at him (and maybe the view from|
the Corner Bakery at Michigan and Wacker)
What is it to be in love at the dawning of...what to call it...the second act? The time in life when you realize that you still have one more chance to reinvent yourself, make good on the promises you gave that young hopeful you, to do something special, to live up to a dream. Well having that person to make those plans with and look forward to every day yet to come, that makes the next act ever more satisfying than going it alone.
|One of the most breathtaking, fabulous, ornate, old time theaters anywhere. (Not that I've been everywhere, but I'm just sayin'.)|
|Too bad it had such a short visit.|
The weather had not been kind this winter (finally officially past!), and we were not able to spend our usual romantic overnighter in Chicago for Valentine's Day. Now that we are planning for a spring vacation, it seemed best to put that on hold. By the strangest of coincidence, we were able to celebrate instead by attending the 40th anniversary Broadway revival of the play "Hair", which has begun it's national tour with a very brief stop in Chicago. In my hippie days, (and oh, yes, I was there for it all) I certainly couldn't have afforded these tickets, although I got to see it as a Penn State student (on March 13, 1971) almost exactly forty years ago. One factor which makes our romance so unlikely and so wonderful is that in those days I was that hippie girl searching for utopia, while my husband-to-be was a U.S Marine, trying to survive in the jungles of Vietnam. Had we met at that time, it is certain we would not have ended up together. But we both survived those years of craziness, found each other somewhere in the middle, and hopefully will continue to write our story for a long time to come.
|I just recently acquired this fabulous book from 1974,|
by Jacopetti and Wainwright. Original cost $7.50. I paid $50 on Amazon.
The production was very enjoyable. "The Tribe," as the cast of friends is called, was performed by extremely talented and enthusiastic young artists. The usual fourth wall is broken throughout the play as the actors interact with the audience, speak directly to us, come down off the stage and crawl over and around us, and during one entire song, the main male and female characters, Berger and Sheila, sat next to us, with actor Steel Burkhardt's arm around my David! At the end of that surreal moment he ruffled David's (ahem) hair, and during the course of the play so did two other female characters. (He loved it!)
|A man who loves his home and cares for it entirely on his own|
(note the torn, muddy knees.)
|You may recall a watercolor sketch not so long ago|
of a certain snow-covered bench.
But something bothered both of us even in the midst of our good time: the tone of the action. Where was the mellow, where was the true belief in the causes? The message of the show, something I lived and understood, was terribly garbled in a sort of showoff style of performance, and a staging that had the actors all acting all the time, (and often in crude sexual role play) rather than bearing witness to the message of the moment. For all its pop culture hit songs and fun antics, the play has the potential to tell a very serious story. Moment somewhat missed.
|First Happy Hour of 2011 on the front porch: celebrating spring|
|Fragile, wonderful, perfect|
The second important story of my week will already be known to many of you: Spring has finally arrived! Sure it promises to take a road trip around here at the end of the week, but we are refusing to let winter back in. The flowers are popping, the lawn furniture and fountain have been uncovered, the first happy hour celebrated on the front porch. My relaxed shoulders tell the story, a permanent sly smile always on the lips. While I am able I must declare it: Life is Good.