The only difference between me and the Surrealists is that I am a Surrealist. - Salvador Dalí

It's been a long time since my last confession. Sometimes I am afraid to write what I think about - putting it in writing gives the thoughts a concreteness that the spoken or unspoken word doesn't carry. Plus, what I think about is more navel gazing than deep or interesting. Roy's blog - check it out if you haven't: roytography.blogspot.com - is always very interesting, not "and now I am doing this" like mine tends to be. Not that it matters, I suppose, I am not writing for publication or accolades.

This is my newest painting, "je sais maintenant" (I know now). It is 4' x 5', acrylic on canvas. Yes, it is another self portrait, and yes, my hair was that red. I learned some hard lessons when I was 18 (about the time of the photo I used) which makes me think of lessons that my 18 year old son will have to learn. Hopefully, not the hard way, but knowing any teenager, it will be. Knowing him, definitely. He is brilliant, but emotionally like any other human. I sometimes think that as intelligence increases, so does sensitivity. Not in a puppy, crying sort of way - but to feeling pain - or even to knowing all the (predominantly bad) possibilities in life. Knowledge is not always power, sometimes it is full of paralyzing realities. Luckily, for me, I met Roy - who is and always has been, my saving grace. It is because of him I didn't curl up into a fetal position and stay there when I was 18, and because of him that I laugh abundantly now. I do know now, but it doesn't hold any power over me anymore.