Hefty is the price to pay if one is willing to sacrifice “voice” and opinion to swift sales. I am realizing as I sort through these issues, that art is so much more than a product to me. It is a mode of communication I use it to share who I am with others. I raise my voice with it, I point out what ignites my soul or brings it low. Isn’t this the true heart cry of all artists?

Some say that I have elevated napping to an art form. This may very well be true as I have cultivated napping over the years. I’ve curated the best spaces to nap (sofas, Ubers, airports, tiny beds at department stores) and the most useful materials needed to take the very best type of naps (big hoodies, fuzzy socks, chilly eye masks, white noise apps). Naps can be well planned or caught on the fly waiting in a parking lot for my next appointment. Some are long and the very best part of a rainy Sunday afternoon. But my naps all have one thing in common…a twinge of guilt.

I love the winter holidays. Especially Christmas. I love the music, baking and decorating. I love the joyful chaos of relatives, kids, dogs, games, fires and glasses of port when the day is done. Cleaning up from the aforementioned wonderfulness…not so much.