Friday, January 31, 2003

 
God has smiled on me and sent an answer to my prayers. I've been chosen for an internship in the Office of Public Affairs for the Denver Center for the Performing Arts. Love's Labour is not lost on me.
posted by donna hickey 6:10 PM

Sunday, January 26, 2003

 
I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart's affections, and the truth of imagination.
John Keats

Things you fear to think. How you make your dreams not only thoughts but deeds. Wishes you hunt for the will to make real. Prayers for purity of spirit and righteousness of action. The flesh of this life. The light, or whiff of wisdom. These things aren't manufactured out of dirt or metal. It isn't easily wielded like swords. Our intellect is a mere pool of knowledge no matter how savory or sweet. How deep or wide you decide. Perhaps it has an ebb and grow too. Hope be our conduit for faith we'd divine.
posted by donna hickey 9:38 PM

Thursday, January 09, 2003

 
Thursday Fox St. Ladies luncheon. At noon on a weekday, eight ladies, living on the same side of the street had the time for a neighborly luncheon. (Health issues aside, quite a reflection of the economy.) Amy, an art history teacher who recently had brain surgery was the neighbor of honor. She was teaching in Queens but after her doctors diagnosed her they recommended she go to University Medical Center to get the tumor in her head cut out. The hostess, Jeannie, a 30 year radiologist technician, now retired but an aspiring novelist, baked a tray of salmon filets. A round wobbly woman who huffed and puffed so like my grandmother, I immediately fell into the role of house servant.
"Get the forks for the sweet rolls and ice cream."
"Bring the coffee out."
I silently obey. Pleased to feel comfortable enough with a neighbor, whom I've just met, to find my role at the luncheon.
Brenda, a painter and freelance artist, brought the desert. She's branched out into abstract paintings. I guess her realistic paintings were too just lush and realistic. When she consciously guides the painting she says she gets into trouble. So she has been painting in a stream of consciousness manner and has been achieving amazing results. How can I apply this technique to my life.
Michelle, also a painter, will be hosting the ambassador of Bulgaria tomorrow. Her work was selected to be shown in the embassy in Bulgaria where she will go to spend time as an artist in residence. When she tires of her paintings she slashes it and throws it in the dumpster. This news caused quite a ruckus since canvas is expensive. She uses canvases that have been mounted to a sturdy form of foam core. This canvas is convenient because she can crop the image if she wants.
Gloria, a spunky nearing middle age hairdresser, has been on the block for 30 years. Because she actually has a job had to leave early.
Sara, an elementary school teacher and mother, brought Anna, who just turned 1-year-old on Elvis' birthday.
Me. I'm someone who was laid off. I worked in marketing.
So how does one know when they need to get their head scanned for tumors? Amy was hiking Pike's Peak with her dad when instead of having physical seizures she had mental seizures. Pictures of random scenes that didn?t fit into what she was thinking or doing at the moment.
"Was it like photographs of paintings you had never seen?" One lady asked.
"No it was senseless random things. Like walking down the street."
We were all thinking I think I have those mental seizures.
Our hostess bellowed, "In these parts we call those brain farts honey." Then Jeannie goes on to casually describe the plastic plug that was put in her head after her skull crumbled when they were performing her brain surgery.
Is this neighborhood toxic?
posted by donna hickey 4:44 PM

Wednesday, January 08, 2003

 
"There is far too great a disproportion between what one is and what others think one is, or at least what they say they think one is. But one has to take it all with good humor." Albert Einstein
posted by donna hickey 8:52 AM

Thursday, January 02, 2003

 
People tell me things. But I easily forget things. I like to list my ability to purge my memory as a sub-superpower. What is worse is forgetting the things I did or said, not just forgetting something someone was confessing in the midst of the safety of an alcohol haze. So one of my girlfriends is in town from Boston and we are laughing about the past. We love giggling about the guy who worked in the computer lab who she could call at any hour to rush over to her apartment and attempt to recover the Spanish essay she just lost on her pc. He wasn't able to recover the paper but he did garner a make-out session. Now it's funny to laugh about how creepy it was when he gave her a red velvet dress and permanently borrowed her Grover shirt or the time he rang her door bell for an hour while she hid in the bathroom with all the lights out talking to me on the phone. But there's always the inevitable, "Remember when..." I don't remember.
posted by donna hickey 11:55 PM

 
I love a New Year. I love 6" of fresh powder on Copper Mountain when I'm learning to snowboard.
posted by donna hickey 10:24 AM

Tuesday, December 31, 2002

 
One of my heros, Joe Strummer, has passed away.
posted by donna hickey 9:04 AM

Monday, December 30, 2002

 
New Year resolutions. Drink more water. Develop healthy habits. Write more. Think kinder, gentler thoughts. Sing everyday. Make out more often. Floss more often. Take more pictures. (to be continued)
posted by donna hickey 10:25 PM

 
Fearing anger is different than getting angry at what we fear.
posted by donna hickey 12:35 AM