FOLLOWING THE SIGNS
There are lots of signs leading to artCentral. This month they are red and white, inviting you to view “Love Languages”, the exquisite mixed media exhibition presented by the Joplin Regional Artists Coalition and remaining on view through this coming weekend’s gallery hours: Friday and Saturday, noon to 5 pm: Sunday, 1-5 pm.
Thanks to artCentral docent, Sharon Patton, and interns Maddie Capps and Sydney Hartless, David and I had last Saturday off from our usual weekend gallery gig. We blissfully spend the day--
As many of you know, lately our two lives have been all about the art of transitioning through some major life shifts that come replete with opportunities and satisfactions and contrasts and challenges, too—learning the joys and skills of blending our two single lives into coupledom; moving our two homes into the new one we share and call Paradise; David’s beginning an encore career teaching in our Carthage school system; my creating a new work/life balance that allows time for our committed relationship; plus our preparations for our May secret destination wedding.
On our day-off-Saturday we anticipate the afternoon and our welcoming David’s sisters, Chris and Ginny, for their first visit to Paradise to see our sweet home and to help us plan our wedding.
Though slow to rise on Saturday, we intend to begin by addressing our delayed, post-moving chores—dusting/vacuuming/et cetera. Instead we find one excuse then another to avoid our domestic must-do list and follow the signs to immediate pleasures. Our need for morning mochas, a sign, necessitates a neighborhood bike ride to fetch milk from our nearest convenience store. A first pleasure enjoyed. Chores delayed.
Then to fuel us for our chores, David prepares a brunch of yogurt and blueberry crêpes. Still more pleasure. Chores still delayed. Looking outside at the warm sunshine (a sign), we decide we really want to set up our new gardens. Chores again delayed, we organize beds and planters and play in the dirt, putting in transplants we brought from our “previous Paradise” homes.
More signs lead us from one pleasure to the next until we finally consider the clock. Spinning into warp speed and synchronized motion, we blitz through our household chores and have a splendid day’s end in the company of two people we love dearly.
After their departure, while dark descends and the fairy lights begin to twinkle on the wrought iron fence surrounding the chicken yard, a magnificent full moon rises through the treetops, shining the sure declaration, “We are blessed,” following the signs to pleasure in our Paradise.