Saturday, August 15, 2009


Stories occur to me as I paint. Usually they're from my memories of growing up in northeast Minneapolis. I lived a fantasy life...not the kind that's ideal, but rather the sort that comes from reading and the wish that my dull little adolescent life were more like that of the heroines I found in Jane Eyre, Sue Barton Student Nurse, and Gone with the Wind. This is part of a children's story that came to me as I worked on "In the Doll's House." The rest isn't ready for sharing yet; maybe it never will be. Still....I keep thinking that the story is in that box somewhere, hidden with the costume.
"She reached into the old box hoping, wishing, to find just the right costume that would help her pretend to be someone else, just this once, just for this magical night."

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