I pity da foo

I hate today. April Fool's Day is not nice.

I was fully prepared to call you all liars, crawl under my covers and ignore everyone until tomorrow. But if did that, you had to KNOW I was doing it or the figurative "stomping of my foot" would be totally wasted. --- I needed a picture.

The image I finally chose is by Olga Marie Ponunin and is currently a part of the NUS Art Museum collection. Click on the picture to be taken to more of her work. And if you find a place where I can buy a print, please let me know...

/Start Tangent

It is fact that the status of women has come a long way. Our plight of controlled existance is no longer shakled like it once was by laws or suffocating social rites. We are no longer relegated to the back room or placed, silent, on a pedistal.

However, we don't live in a land of only puppies and rainbows. Women still battle the stigma that they should be sweet, innocent and pure despite the decades that our mothers and grandmothers fought against it. They were incredible female champions for a passion filled life. And still the battle rages.

This breathtaking image freed something inside me though. It, in some way that I cannot explain, gave me permission to admit that the battle- for me at least- is actually against ME. I have mixed expectations for myself. I want to be lovely and gentle and graceful. I want to be soft and cherished as if I were precious beyond measure. I also want to live my life with zest, exhilaration and uncontained curiosity. My favorite word is Passion. I want to live my life with and be a person of Great Passion.

Can I have both? Can I be both?

It's time I stopped treating myself like a fool. Tricking myself -  believing I have to fit into one of those two boxes.

Spring is about new beginnings. Color. Life. Blooming!

And the most beautiful gardens don't have clearly defined sections - they allow their flowers to flow and mingle, without ridged structure. A surprise of bright pink popping gayly out amid graceful yellows and blues...

This is MY spring.