July 11, 2020 Sequestered

Friday was here and I thought it was Saturday with its expectation. Everything has become same old, samo kind of day, unless it gets punctuated. Stream of consciousness must serve, it worked for some and as to Proust, the past will be here when I finish this blog. Thursday FB surprised me with yet another memory. “We care about you ……..”

Windisch Hunt Fine Art

My gallery about the size of our PB Cultural gallery space, perhaps a bit larger. Lots of memories there. A new show each and every month, so many artists needing to be seen. Had a car show, not just on the walls. Regional Treasures all five over the age of 72. We staged our one Ear Society group for the Mangohttps://youtu.be/K14OwgPnEss Strut here. February was our Corporate Art Show ( oversized art work ). Every artist had an opportunity. During the time we were up in Woodstock we lent the gallery to Children Services of Miami for their successful soirées. Quite a few kids got adopted having been showcased on our walls. The gallery literally became the Groves community center. The Grove needed xmas decor on its streets, we pulled out tables and made them there. To benefit the merchants and driving traffic to their stores we painted coconuts, for the Coconut Hunt! Saturday nights the Krishnas danced thru the gallery regardless what opening or event Hari Hari. Always took it as a blessing.

Continuing w art this from Instagram, some of my favorite!

So clever
Love sharing these from around the world

Have distanced from kids when they drop by, I ask “where is your mask” [at home] “go get it”. Being cautious as I’ve been sequestered since the beginning. Fancy Nancy comes to check on her Sunflowers, which she sowed.


Thirty days till school starts up and no thoughts of studying so I prepared a excersise book for her so she can return to school, hopefully up to speed. 30 pages, one to do each day ( a calendar of sorts) and when it’s finished it will be time to go to school with a new skill.

Cursive, the reward her own Pink fountain pen.

Maria comes by to admire the sunflowers as they came from her seeds. We chat and she critiques the eyes of the kids on my LFLibrary that I’m painting. So easy to critique as a none artist. Lol. I share that on the back I’m painting Pablo Neruda doorway of Sebastiana, segway she is able to quote some of his work. We have a lovely discussion that’s what I mean by punctuate. We end as I discovered my very first Poinciana blossom on my 5 yr old tree. I quoted the song I can’t sing. She never heard it and so played her Bing Crosby’s “Poincianahttps://youtu.be/vhJ-_D-f5Fc”

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