Rain, rain, rain.
Nothing but rain in sight for days and days and days.
Today I decide to do some Spring Cleaning and clear out the clutter. I pack up my huge shopping cart with old clothes and such and head towards a local church that accepts clothing and household items for donations.
A block away from my apartment, as I’m pushing my old lady cart down the sidewalk, I spot some holes in the pavement and try to push the front wheels of the cart over the broken cement when the front wheels get stuck and the entire shopping cart buckles underneath me---with me on top of it.
Luckily, the cart was mostly filled with cushy clothes for me to land on. Luckily, there were three Spanish men standing there who rushed to my side. Before I knew what was happening, one of them lifted me up from under my arms and stood me up on my feet like a marionette. Another lifted my cart, while the third, an older man, picked up my bags of clothes and put them back into my cart.
“Are you okay?” the younger man who lifted me asked.
“Esta bien?” the old man asked, even more concerned. Old people are always extra worried. You could be five years old and they still think you might have broken a hip.
“Si. Bien,” I said as dusted off my pants and my pride. I thanked them for their help and tried not to limp away.
Within a block, I realized there was no serious damage. A few scrapes and bruises and a pretty sore knee---but I’d survive.
Just then, I noticed a beautiful cherry tree in front of a Jewish Center. The petals were slowly drifting to the ground, leaving a pink snow on the sidewalk. As I paused to take a picture of my happily intact foot, I realized that this was the first time I’d fallen since my accident last year. Over the past year, I’d been so careful to hold onto hand rails on the stairs and not engage in crazy physical activities. Last year’s experience was just too painful for me to risk a repeat hospital appearance.
Oddly, it was simply walking down the street pushing a grandma cart that sent me tumbling again. Apparently, no matter how careful I was, there was always danger just around the corner---or, in this case, just down at the corner.
I decided that, once the rain cleared up, I would do something a little fun and crazy next week. After all, if I'm going to fall anyway, I might as well be doing something more interesting than pushing a shopping cart.
After I drop off the clothes, I remember a thrift store a few blocks away that I wanted to explore.
Today, I find this box of cassettes with 30 hours of old radio programs for a few dollars.
This will certainly keep me entertained over the next few rainy days.
As I was poking thru the glassware shelves, I mostly saw dozens of “World’s Greatest Grandpa” mugs that kind of made me sad. But then, I stumbled across a fabulous ceramic piece that caught my eye.
A ceramic flat plate that appears to be a trivet. Clean, organic and stunning---I immediately knew I had to have it. But when I turned it over to look for the price, I was stunned to discover the label underneath that read, “Rina Menardi. Hand made in
I snapped it up and went to the counter to ask the price. The big man turned it over in his sausage fingers and sighed, “A dollar ninety-nine.”
If you’re not familiar with Rina Menardi’s work, here is a sample from one of her most recent collections:
I couldn’t believe I now owned my very first piece of Rina Menardi’s for less than two dollars! I took it home and cleaned it up as I listened to some old Louis Armstrong. The delicate pattern on the trivet looked like a pencil drawing.
I remembered a project I’d been wanting to do for my kitchen wall---hand-drawn flowers on different shades of white paper to create a patchwork wallpaper sort of feel.
I listened to Louis Armstrong and pulled out my pencils and drawing paper and lied on the floor to work. As I drew, I remembered one of my favorite scenes in one of my favorite films, Stardust Memories.
I realize that I need to take this 30 day opportunity to take all sorts of risks---artistic, physical and emotional. Yes, I love tiny lines; but the ability to draw them only comes by beginning with bold strokes.
Such is the power of Louis Armstrong, Woody Allen and a rainy day.
Here's the scene:
Enjoy.
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