I'm White Again

Before we circle back to Paris (it seems to be a slow and circuitous route) I wanted to add one more entry from my current chalky white fixation.  I took the two youngest boys and a friend down to the Crossroads for First Fridays this month.

When there is something that I want the boys to see to which I know they might not immediately be attracted, I plan and promise in small doses.  We stay as long as it's fun.  Junky food is likely a reward.

The weather here has been gorgeous and that night was no exception.  Live music, lots of dogs, one interesting gentleman in a black speedo and a cowboy hat all provided plenty of entertainment for them and for me.

They enjoyed the galleries more than I expected and spent some time looking at the art and speculating at the intent of the artist.  I was captivated by these sculptures by Judy Onofrio at Sherry Leedy. Onofrio has used bone in her work over the last few years.  A serious illness and the healing and survival that followed provided Onofrio the perspective that with endings there are new beginnings.  Even my middle son, who is still disturbed by the swan and often says, "Why do you always like things that have to do with death?" admired the grace and strength of these.  Though what he said was, "Yeah, they're cool." Indeed.