Body and Buds

I've never been so aware of my body. Not that I ignored or neglected it before. We've always been on speaking terms. But, now it's got more leverage. Like tonight, "No, I'm sorry, you can't go to sleep yet. I'm not done digesting that delicious strawberry- blueberry- blackberry- grape smoothie you ate."

Suddenly, I'm aware that my body is already being asked to multi-task in the extreme and I should be more sensitive. A baby is being made inside me, and I don't have any direct hand in the process. Certainly, I have a responsibility to create the right environment - exercise, lots fo water, nutrient rich foods and rest - but I'm not actually involved with the process of dividing cells and forming spinal cord.

Today I was looking at an Anatomy textbook (that my sister actually edited). I love how they call some of the part "buds" as if they blossom to become lung flowers, liver flowers, and eventually arm flowers and ear flowers.

Quite Certain, Actually.

So, I went to the bookstore today. First I went to the baby/parenting section and when I had an overload of belly pictures, I made my way to the top floor: Reference: Household. My intent was to ingest some organizational inspiration and then return home to implement. I picked up three splendid specimens and searched for a chair to get myself into domestic receiving mode(not shame at my lack of organization, just openness, receiving).

BUT, then I saw on the shelf: The Principles of Uncertainty by Maira Kalman. The inside front flap poked a little hole in the dark cloth that had been shrouding my heart lately and flipping through the pages I knew I must buy this book, go home and paint and forget about organizing. Thank you Maira.

Famous Toilet Seat

Once, when I was young, with no thoughts of preschool or pediatrician decisions on my mind, I was in Rome, standing outside an art museum, convincing my friend we should go in, that it would be worth 9 euros (even though tha was about $15 US dollars with the embarrassingly weak exchange rate at the time) even though it might mean we would have to share a baguette for dinner, that this experience would nourish our souls...

And I said, "It's not like there's going to be a signed toilet seat inside." And she, astute with her art history knowledge knew I was referring to Duchamp, and because I made her laugh, she conceded.

However, I was wrong. Lo and behold, this was the one museum in the entire world blessed to house the most well known toilet seat in the world.

All that to say:

1) I wonder if I'll ever be able to go to Rome again.

2) Although mildly insane, I think Duchamp was an innovator.

3) Was his mother alive when he put that toilet seat in an art show?