Spring at last

This time last year I was waiting for spring to raise its sleepy head and it was taking its sweet laissez fare time. Really, spring doesn't do its thing until late April in Paris. The French Film Festival was about to happen at home and I knew my daffodils, crocus and weeping pussy willow would be bursting with glory... and it was still very much like February in Paris. As much as I adore this great city February made me homesick.

This year spring is literaly at my doorstep and every day I make time to plant something. Its difficult since everything else seems to happen in March. Deadlines make me dizzy this time of year and I've become as rebellious as I can afford to be... ok, maybe more rebellious than I can afford to be but that's the price of being 40 something. Ya gotta do what ya gotta do or else ya may never get the chance to.

Since I haven't had time to post photos of the spring here I've posted some rebirthish images from Chelsea and MOMA. Spring is where you can find it sometimes and it sure wasn't on the sidewalks when we were in NYC last weekend.

The blue-green painting to the right is by Joan Snyder. I wish I had asked for a title sheet so I could post it but I was distracted by the fact that she was in the gallery that morning and she was very beautiful and chatting up a young art history major. I asked her to sign her catalogue and then asked her if I could take a photo of her in front of one of her paintings. She said I was pushing it but she agreed to pose for me. I guess she empathized since if there is one thing she taught other women artists how to do is push it.