Remembering...

September 11. I wanted to begin my post today with a brief statement about the victims of that horrible day five years ago. I, like the rest of America, remember you... not just today, but every day. I feel so very inept in my ability to express all of the emotions still swirling within me when I think of that clear, crisp morning. Your memory lives on in my heart and you will never be forgotten...

Steve and I did schlepp Bentley all the way to Santa Barbara this weekend in search of driftwood. Apparently, there was some massive, driftwood-clearing effort held right before our arrival. (I'm kidding here, but I can think of no other reason for the TOTAL lack of driftwood. It was weird.) Bentley had an awesome time, however.

Not to be deterred, Steve and I drove to this woodsy hiking area last night. We got a bit of exercise among the trees and found an ample supply of sticks and twigs which will do nicely as driftwood stand-ins. In fact, I think it will be nice to have the variety. It's pretty sad that we needed to drive 30 minutes to get to some space with trees, though. Such is life in the desert and in Los Angeles.

I have three of the seven collages finished and on the wall. I've decided to store them on my wall as I can think of no safer place. It's interesting to note that the paint color on the wall is an exact match to the greyish blue/green in my collages. They say you're always drawn to the same colors...