So tell me. Who is reading this? Absolutely no one, and why should they? I am bereft of even a modicum of talent for anything, much less writing. I have spent a day struggling with a painting, and the fight is finished. The winner: the art supply store, whose product I have just wasted once again. Seems I can only relate to these little pieces, the one I have posted here. A small 7" X 9", it is as delicate as the nutlets it portrays. I have bought several college textbooks from the 1930's and '40's. Their beauty and gentle earnestness entrance me, so much so that all I really want to do is small collage pieces. They work for me. They like me. I like them. Not so the big, lurching canvases and boards that stare at me with much hostility beckoning me to failure. But who has the time-to really look at this work? The little botanicals? The lovely old typefaces, the sublime illustrations, the patient explanation of the workings of a stamen. Only for the artist to behold.

I have been thinking lately about the nature of gifts. We all give gifts. We all receive them. We worry about what we give-and sometimes about what we get. What is this psychology of gifts? Better givers than receivers? Visa versa? Here is an incident that prompted these thoughts.

On Christmas eve I received an envelope. Inside was a bank check-no account holder's name, no information-anonymous. Accompanying it was a beautiful note, printed from a computer. Also anonymous. It said that the money ( a sizable amount) was from friends who cared about me. That it was not necessary to know who sent it. That it was a gift to me and my family to use as I liked. That Christmas was a time of giving for the joy of it. It was probably one of the most generous and amazing gifts I have ever gotten. For someone to give that amount of money and expect no "thank you" in return, no "points", no-nothing, was beyond my capacity to process. I cried most of the day. Part of it was the loneliness of the first Christmas without Jamie, who died 3 months before. But much of it was the conflicting emotions I was fighting. I was profoundly touched and grateful for this gift. But did I deserve it? I was beset with the need to thank-who? Who was this angel (or angels) who gave so generously with no need for reciprocation? And why did it inspire tremendous love and gratitude in me-but also anxiety? 

2 things here: I clearly don't deserve it. But do any of us deserve any gift we get? And also, its a communication interuppted. There is something unsetteling about getting something and not being able to respond to the giver. 

So I thank this kind person or persons in my prayers everyday, and remember, that they did it for my good-and I hope for theirs.

In the beginning...

Today is the first day of the rest of my blog. Who knows where it will take me? Patience please, while I work this out.