Orvieto journal

 While waiting for physical therapy on my foot last week, I browsed a W magazine and saw myself right then and there rip a page out.  Or maybe I didn't see myself but heard the rip. Nevertheless, the old me would not have even turned down the corner much less removed a page. And there I sat with it in my hand.  I looked around and no one was watching so I stuffed it in my big tote bag.  I won't even tell you all the things that went through my mind at that moment.  Well OK, just to mention a few; the issue was more than a year old; they shouldn't have kept me waiting so long; who is this person who subscribes to such an edgy magazine in this little rural town; have I become that person who rips recipes out of the doctor's office magazine; that was easy, maybe I could borrow a few more.

All of this while excitement was building with the bit of inspiration that I had just stolen and stuffed into my tote.  I wish I could show you that page but it's not with me here at the desk-in-town.   Anyway, it was a lineup of black headed young boys with bare chest and red socks all standing in profile.  I couldn't stand it! To me, they were a chorus lineup white hooded saints that I surely must have seen or dreamed of in Orvieto.

So that was my Saturday art in my Orvieto journal.

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