dancer“Dancer” stoneware sculpture by kayti sweetland rasmussen

Dr. Advice does not cook. I mean he REALLY does not cook, so in preparation for my short vacation for a tune-up, I am preparing a bit of sustenance in advance. So far a chicken vegetable soup, a chocolate cake and a few enchiladas. He used to feel sorry for our friend Emmett Oliver after Georgia passed away when Emmett stocked his fridge with frozen dinners. Personally I think that was very smart.

This appointment for surgery popped out of the blue a day or so after the stress test. One of those “voices” informed me that the doctor was ready. There was no chance to say “Wait a darn minute–HE may be ready but I haven’t finished reading the brochure”.

Having a bypass of a leg artery may or may not correct my “spaghetti” legs. I don’t think there is a need to drag out my dancing shoes again, but perhaps I can pass along my wheeled transportation. It seems a very positive endeavor. I just hate to be rushed.


The Practice—-  watercolor painting by kayti sweetland rasmussen

“There’s some seven billion of us on this Earth and we are all interconnected.  There’s this idea of six degrees of separation that we are only six links away from any person.”  Psych 101 assures us that when two of us come together, there are really six people involved in the conversation, ie the person he thinks he is, the person you think he is, and the person he really is.

Awhile back I was being interviewed for a newspaper article prior to a show I had been preparing for 18 months.  The reporter and the photographer crowded in upon me, one firing questions as to what I had meant in this or that piece, the other clicking away.  Then the article came out, and though complimentary, it wasn’t at all what I thought I had said.

The truth is that we unconciously perform in a slightly different manner for each occasion.   I am deeply sympathetic or joyful to someone who requires it, yet I may be businesslike to the telephone company or the garbage man, and yet flirt with the waiter!  Why do you think that is?  I am still me.

At an art show or gallery opening I am comfortable wearing an otherwise outrageous outfit, perhaps even a feather boa, but I am equally comfortable, and most times I live in blue jeans and tennis shoes.

We are all the above things.   We are a compilation of our entire life experiences; the things we did or wished we had done, the interaction between family, friends, enemies. We are absorbing knowledge, wisdom and patience each day of our lives.

Like the little dancer in the painting who wants desperately to be out with her friends, we are learning patience and endurance, and at some point in our lives we will be happy to have practiced our “en point.”  Though I no longer dance in reality, I will always dance in my heart.

And yes, these are my shoes.