Funny Day

Art Quote of the Day
An artist cannot speak about his art any more than a plant can discuss horticulture.
Jean Cocteau


Seems not to be the case. Discussing one's art is an expectation these days.
Josie Soho

Saturday at the market was a funny day this week. 7.7.07. All the conversations I had, turned to relationships and death or a combination thereof. Shortly after I took this pic a woman came along and started to chat. While we were talking she pointed out a heron flying over the buildings shown here. She told me her husband had died in an accident shortly after her now grown son was born. That her long term partner had died last March. I told her some of my history and then the heron flew back the other way. Downtown's not far from the Connecticut River but we don't normally see them making a path over the city.

I noticed she seemed to take the heron as a sign of something, as she let out a soft, "huh " after pointing the bird out to me. My father saw a heron in his brook shortly before he died and it was a great source of awe for him. Seeing a heron is a magical thing to me.

Two other people spoke to me of death that day as well. My first boss in Northampton from many years ago was next. She cried when I asked how she was doing. Seems she'd lost her brother just two months ago.

Later on that afternoon a man came by and told me he'd lost his wife. That she'd been an educated woman while he was just a simple carpenter. "Came to Noho to salvage what was left of his mind." he said. "Just a simple carpenter in painter's clothes."

Never know what sitting on the street for a few hours is going to bring. It's never boring.

From Seeds of the Past

josiesoho™

While I'm Rambling

When this tractor and trailer parked across the street from my house yesterday morning I found solace.

I've been missing my parents lately. My mom in particular.This beautiful time of year coincides with her cancer diagnosis two years ago. Many of you know from reading this blog earler that my mom passed away from lung cancer.

I have found that believing in signs is a very helpful way of coping with grief for me.

Seeing this big rig pull up in front of my house yesterday caught my attention. It's a busy street but I don't often see tractors parallel parking in that spot.

When I looked closer I realized the label on the door was for a lumberyard up the road from where I used to live with my mother and my girls in Goshen. We all lived together for six years after my dad died.

I decided it was a greeting from my mom. The lumber yard had personal meaning for me as I used to walk by it on my daily seven mile walk.
As I was looking out the door I realized the name of the driver's daughter was painted on the hood. My dad had my name on his truck when I was a child. Little Jo.

He also drove a Mack truck on mail runs on Route 20 between Worcester and Springfield and I rode with him occasionally.
Next I noticed there was a 2 on the cab as well. That was the final proof to me that the greeting was from both my parents and they were telling me they were alright and had found each other.

Farfetched I know, but it works for me.