Figuratively Speaking - The Small Things

5"x7" watercolor $50

Today I was listening to an interview on NPR with Jacqueline Woodson about her book "Brown Girl Dreaming."  She sounded like a grounded soul who gave thoughtful and authentic answers to the interviewer's questions.  After talking about her book tracing her family ancestry, and the difficult history our country has with race relationships, the interviewer referenced another author who was writing about similar things with an angry and frustrated voice.  He asked her about how she felt about that and she answered that she couldn't live with a pessimistic view of the world.  She said that the America that makes her cry is also the America she dearly loves.  It kind of implies that we all have a bit of a dysfunctional relationship with our country.  She said she looked at the little things that gave her joy and love for humanity and let those things give her hope.  Later today I read this quote published in Sara Genn's newsletter, The Painter's Keys. It said, "If you stay close to nature, to its simplicity, to the small things hardly noticeable, those things can unexpectedly become great and immeasurable." (Rainer Maria Rilke)  I think they are talking about the same thing.  It is  a bit like asking yourself how much real estate you are willing to give to negative ideas and thoughts and how much you assign to finding uplifting things.  I am always looking for happy real estate in joyful neighborhoods filled with nature's opportunities to find little things.  Go Figure!

Figuratively Speaking - Red Barn

8"x8" oil $160

Aren't we lucky that we get to do revisions?  It takes a lot of failure to get to success but the good news is that it just takes some tweaking to get it right.  I am not sure what I am talking about, but it does apply to painting.  I have been studying Vermeer and his method of layering glazes to get it just right...not everywhere, but where it counts, has inspired me.  I am usually in a hurry but I realize I need to slow down and pay attention to what details are needed to make it glow or sing or just be sweeter.  I think it applies to a lot of other things though. Like cooking for instance.  My friend Heather is a talented chef.  I can make a decent, and healthy meal, but she pays attention to every detail in layering and flavors and textures and presentation.  Going to a dinner party at her house is a special treat.  It applies to exercise.  Theresa is a beautiful woman who hikes and does Tai Chi and swims and does yoga, but she doesn't stay in shape for the sake of exercise.  She does those things because they keep her way of thinking healthy.  Shinrin Yoku is Japanese for "forest bathing."  It is a method of breathing in the energy and peace of the woods.  Theresa does that moment to moment in her everyday life.  It applies to relationships as well.  I was going to try and stretch this analogy a little further, but I guess I really don't know what I am talking about.  I need to give this one a little more time and let the literary glazes slowly build up.  Go Figure!

Figuratively Speaking - Matisse Bouquet

8"x8" oil Price $160

I finished a book about Matisse right before I did this painting.  It struck me how much I had been influenced from reading about how he painted and looking at reproductions of his work.  That in term got me to thinking about influences in general and how I wanted to make sure I was being influenced by people and things that are going to enhance my journey in life and art.  Later I was listening to Antrese Wood's podcast with Frank Lombardo.  It turns out that he is the one I want to be influenced by in my artwork.  That was a real revelation because I know I have been inching towards this for a long time.  I of course dug deeper and started reading his blog, which is very out of date by the way, but the information he posted last year is timeless.  The one I read was about artists and their daily routines which of course made me look at mine.  He referenced a book Daily Rituals:How Artists Work by Mason Currey. So here are my "rituals."  I get up between 7-7:30 or earlier, depending on how I slept.  I do some stuff around the house and then go to the gym where I workout, swim and socialize and get home around 11am.  I fix a concoction, you could call a "smoothie," but it is very healthy, not very pretty.  I check my emails or read while I drink it, or do more household stuff.  Then I go to the studio and work and usually stay there until around 4:30-5, but sometimes later depending on how in to it I am or if I have a deadline.  I also try to get a walk in the woods in there somewhere too.  I can't really call myself a full-time painter, because I usually just paint in the afternoon, but I am a full time artist because I spend the evenings hanging out with my husband (who has a job) and doing art business or reading (about art) or preparing things for another painting.  Sometimes we go out to a concert or I meet with some other artists or go to life drawing, or teach, but you get the picture.  My weekends are scheduled differently, and are more flexible, but they have a rhythm as well.  So back to Lombardo.  He quoted William James with the phrase, “effortless custody of automatism.” He was referring to routine giving freedom not to have to think about daily details.  He also mentioned the supposition that Edison had numerous versions of the same suit so he didn't have to think about what he was wearing.  I am so like that.  I have always wanted a uniform, and kind of have that in a way.  I love necklaces and use them for my aristic fashion statement, but black leggings and a black tunic works for me in about every situation.  Anyway, I am really happy with my Matisse-like painting.  I deliberately went back in and added more detail just to make it mine.  I don't want to a copy-cat, just slightly influenced.  Go Figure!

Figuratively Speaking - Serena in Gold Shawl

12"x16" oil Price $480

I am tall.  When I was young and healthy and relatively cute, some people would say to me, "you should be a model."  No one ever said, "You should be a jockey.  You should be a gymnast.  or You should be a airline stewardess."  I am so glad I didn't attempt to be a model.  I am sure I would not be where I am today if I had and I really like where I am at today.  No one ever told me I should be a doctor or lawyer or dentist or airplane pilot either.  Honestly, all I ever really wanted to be was an artist.  I wish I had been mature enough and believed in myself enough to have pushed to go to art school and to have been driven enough to succeed.  Problem is, I wasn't.  So if I had gone, I probably would have blown it.  I needed to go through all the trials and made all those stupid mistakes to have learned how to appreciate the opportunities I was given.  I definitely learned from the school of hard knocks.  I wasted a lot of wonderful opportunities and got derailed by my bad choices, but somehow it all worked out. I learned to work hard and be frugal as a young adult by living on "The Farm," an alternative farming community. Later I became a teacher so that, as a single mom, I could see my kids during the day.  Being a teacher was certainly an opportunity to fly by the seat of my pants, but I did learn to be disciplined and efficient.  I learned to identify the objective and find different ways of communicating it.  I ended up being a fairly decent teacher and I learned to love much about the job. Honestly my chance to be an artist came when I married a very stable, honest, man with integrity who played by the rules and had a good  and stable job (pretty much the opposite of me).  It also really helped my parenting.  So when anyone asks me how long it takes to do a painting, I can answer them honestly and say it took a lifetime.  Go Figure!

Figuratively Speaking- The Fair

8"x10" watercolor Price $50

I saw him at the Tunbridge World's Fair.  That sounds like the beginning to a Country Western song.  I hated country music when I was a young teen.  We made fun of it for being whiny and brokenhearted.  That was before my heart was ever really broken.  Somewhere along the line I started to like it. Johnny Cash, Willie Nelson, Asleep at the Wheel, Charlie Daniels, Emmy Lou Harris, Bonnie Raitt, even Dolly Parton snuck into my heart.  Dolly Parton is so much not my thing,  her big hair, big makeup, big....figure, her marketing, her presentation, but gee, she is just so lovable and funny and has great musicality, and is adorably self depreciating.  Tomorrow night we are going to see the Glenn Miller Band with about 15 of our friends. (I realize this has nothing to do with Country) Several people I asked to come with us flat out hated big band music.  I love it.  It makes me want to sing and dance. My sister and I used to dance in the living room to our parents' records including Glenn Miller.  Actually that is when I fell in love with Patsy Cline. Clearly I am all over the place in my likes when it comes to music.  I love classical, some show tunes, jazz, folk, gospel, newgrass, motown, rag, blues, and I like to watch opera, but not so much just listen to it, and I am, of course, a child of rock.  Heck, I even like Dean Martin.  Maybe I am musically clueless or just confused, but music just wiggles into your soul and makes life so much richer.  Patty Casey wrote a love song to her dog who was dying.  Every time I listen to it, I cry.  Really, every time.  Some of the words are: "you taught me how to howl, and how to live with just one bowl."  I love that.  Howling is a bit like singing or reading poetry, or painting (to music)....I think I will go do that now....Go Figure!   

Figuratively Speaking - Church Planes

8"x8" watercolor Price $50

I think I am an easily influenced person.  That could be really bad, but on the other hand, depending on who or what is doing the influencing, it can be a good thing.  I NEVER (yes I yelled that) let comments on Facebook influence me to have opinions or get angry!  Recently I read a book about Matisse.  I don't think I ever really got what he did until I read that book.  The next painting I did showed that influence.  It wasn't as if it looked like a Matisse, I just approached it directly, simplifying the forms and doing broad areas of color, at least in the first swipe.  It was so fun to do even if it isn't a masterpiece.  The one shown here was just a little watercolor I did at the Tunbridge World's Fair.  What caught my eye was the planes of the church and the way the sun hit in one spot.  Sometimes when I have some insight and see how I am being influenced, I can throw it off if I don't like what I see, or I can embrace it and see how it becomes part of who I am.  In a short chit chat with amazing artist, Peter Huntoon today, we talked about how to identify the things we needed to grow in our painting.  He added that it wasn't a broad, open ended growth, but growing to be more truthful, more authentic in what we say.  He was referring to what we say in our art, but it applies to what we say in general I think.   I am going to let that influence me.  I think I might have influenced him too.  He seemed in a better mood at the end of the conversation....Go Figure!

8"x10" watercolor price $50

Yellow and Purple don't really suit me I think.  This portrait has a very vague resemblance to me, like it could be an unknown sister or fraternal twin.  I did it as a study in complementary colors.  That means that they combine to enhance the qualities of each other (thank you Webster).  They also combine to create interesting neutrals.  Originally I only used those 2 colors and white, but later I added a touch of red to the skin tones.  On the other hand, complimentary (with an "i" not an "e") refers to praise or giving something free of charge.  I know people who are very complimentary, but not very authentic.  I know people who give free of charge, like advice or their opinion, or even criticism, and it just isn't nice or helpful.  So, instead of being a complimentary person, I think I will stick with complementary and enhance the qualities of another.  Next time I do a complementary selfie though, I will try it with Christmas colors, green and red, or maybe orange and blue...to see which pair complements me the most!  Go Figure!

Figuratively Speaking - Ticonderoga

6"x10" watercolor $50

The Ticonderoga was the last steam powered boat on Lake Champlain.  It was a truly decked-out (pun intended) ride between Vermont and NY.  It would go one way in the day and back across in the night.  It was like a traveling hotel.  There were limited bedrooms where wealthier patrons could sleep the trip away.  When it was decommissioned Electra Havemeyer Webb purchased it.  During the winter, when the ground was completely frozen, she had tracks laid from the boat to her property in Shelburne, VT.  On a harrowing trip, they slowly dragged that huge ship overland, as there were electric lines to move and railway crossings to coordinate, plus the land started to thaw.  It's final resting place was Shelburne Museum.  Electra (love that name) was a consummate collector.  She collected, dolls, quilts, paintings, buildings, a railway station, a lighthouse and a big boat.  Today that boat is completely restored and is quite magnificent.  Electra is interesting for a number of other things, including the fact that she was the daughter of Lousine Havemeyer (wife of the sugar baron) who was best friends with Mary Cassatt (impressionist painter).  As a result, there are some wonderful paintings by Monet, Manet, Degas, Cassatt, and others at the museum.  I painted this painting from where it sits at Shelburne.  Clearly, it is not in water, but is landlocked on a slight slope.  The beauty of painting and drawing is that you can change anything you want.  One of the changes I made, was to put it in water.  There is great power in creating!  Go Figure!

Figuratively Speaking - Mediative Morning

8"x10" watercolor $100

The sun just peaked over the mountain top and is misted in rising fog.  It is a meditative morning. 

I kept waking up to check the clock because I had 2 granddaughters to get off to school.  Of course, I then slept in.  They had awoken in the middle of the night and came in to snuggle with me.  I felt like my nest was full.  It was a warm and wonderful feeling. I should state here that I loved it so much because I don't often get this opportunity.  After rushing the dressing, eating, brushing teeth, hair fixing routines we went out on the cool morning to wait for the bus...which didn't come, and I realized I was half hour early.  Geez it would take some practice to be good at this.  That is pretty much true for anything I guess.  My father always said, "Every parent is an amateur."  That is so true.  We are never ready for what the next twist and turn will bring.  We only mellow out by the third kid!  So now the sun is burning off the fog, the sky is blue and it promises to be an amazing day.  I am free to do what I wish.  That also is something I don't get the opportunity to do much.  Rather, I have my routines.  I guess I always have the choice, but I like feeling like my day is ordered.  Today, however I am going to go by the seat of my pants.  Maybe some new art gallery visits, maybe tracking down that wonderful watercolor artist, Jo Mackenzie (her gorgeous sunflower below)  maybe taking a hike and practice some watercolors.  Maybe I will do all of those things! Go Figure!

Jo Mackenzie watercolor

Figuratively Speaking- Grandma's View

5"x5" watercolor and ink on 400# paper

Yesterday was my son's birthday and today I am staying at his house and watching my granddaughters while he attends a conference.  It is so cool to get to do that.  We live 2 hours from each other so we get to be together fairly often.  He is a very busy man.  Who would have guessed t42 years ago, that he would become a business person and I would be sitting on his porch painting a little watercolor of the village store across the street, while I wait for the school bus.  Speaking of school buses, we lived in a school bus when he was little, with his father, sister and brother.  Talk about tiny house living!  I have to say I loved it while it lasted.  Actually his sister was born in a school bus, but that is another story.  Adam was born in Bethel, MO, in a big old house that had been sort of subdivided into 3 living spaces that we shared with 2 other friends.  One was a potter and the other a weaver.  Adam was born at home early in the morning after a ridiculously short labor while his father was going to pick up the midwife.  Yes, it is true, I was alone, but not for long.  Everything turned out fine, although numerous people have chastised my foolishness, I wouldn't have made it to the hospital anyway.  We could have a long discussion about this, but I don't think it would accomplish anything, so I just hold my tongue and keep smiling.   Sometimes I dream of traveling, visiting exotic places, meeting wonderful artists and others, then I think back and remember all the unusual adventures I have had and how wonderful life is now and I feel content.  Not bad....Go Figure!

Figuratively Speaking - Baby Steps

Playing catch-up at Moon Brook Studio.  Life is good.  My kids and grandkids are healthy and Vermont weather is spectacular.  Foliage season is delayed in our area, but I am sure it will catch-up too.  All the disasters in our country and the world are really depressing, but plenty of wonderful things are happening everywhere.  Healthy babies are being born, couples are falling in love, students are getting good education and loads of folks are volunteering or working to improve conditions in the world.  Connections are being made and innovations are blooming.  In my world, creativity is happening and I hope it is in yours as well.  I read on a blog today (and can't remember which one it was, apologies to the author who found this quote) "The art of drawing which is of more real importance to the human race than that of writing...should be taught to every child just as writing is." John Ruskin.  Now that would be a great thing for our culture to catch up on.  Meditation is practical and good.  Drawing is practical and wonderful!  Can you imagine seeing all those people who have tilted necks and fingers pecking away at their electronics with little sketch books and pencils instead?  What would it be like if everyone was stimulated by art and creativity.  Something to think about.  Here's another one by John Ruskin, "Remember that the most beautiful things in the world are the most useless: peacocks and lilies for instance."  Mmmmmmm....Go Figure

Oh, here is my 30 in 30 collage.

Baby Steps #15- Metaphor

6"x6" watercolor collage Price $50

Baby shoes are a great metaphor...new beginnings, times gone by, loves found, loves lost, innocence, baby steps, things forgotten, things remembered.  I posted on FB trying to find out the name of my first grade teacher.  Boy did that stir up a lively conversation which included old (literally) friends, out of touch friends, associates, and even people I didn't spend any time with.  Talk about "things remembered!"  What is your first memory?  For a long time I had a memory that involved fear and the world changing into a blur of colors.  I loved that blur, despite the fear. When I was a bit older and understood language a whole lot better, I suddenly was able to make the association of the memory with an experience I was having at the time.  It was winter and I was sledding.  My memory was probably of the first time I went sledding.  The whole world tilted again with that memory and being able to put words of explanation to it.  There have been other times in my life when I felt the sensation of the world tilting or slipping, but none of them are as pleasant or exhilarating.  I had kind of sinking feeling last fall during the election campaign....but that was a whole different thing!  Go Figure!

Baby Steps #14 - Too Much?

5"x7" watercolor Price $50

 Do you remember the first art that really moved you?  For me it was Dick, Jane and Sally illustrations by Robert Childress, my first love affair with art.   In first grade we had to sit round robin and read aloud when it was our turn.  I can't imagine how painfully boring that must have been for the teacher.  I think it made her a bit cranky.  I could read because I watched my father teach my sister to read lying on a blanket on the living room floor.  There were a lot of tears involved and I vowed I would teach myself to read so I wouldn't have to endure that.  While waiting for my turn in the reading group I would read ahead and look at the pictures.  I thought they were magical!  I was in art appreciation zone and very happy.  Then the teacher would call my name, observing that I wasn't with the group.  I wouldn't know what page I was suppose to read and she wouldn't tell me.  It was humiliating.  Today, I feel bad for both of us.  Mostly though, I loved her.  She was very young and very pretty.  When we came back from Christmas vacation she announced she had a new name because she had gotten married.  It was Baumgartner.  I don't remember her maiden name but it was something like Smith.  I thought Baumgartner was impossible.  It took a lot of effort to learn that new name.  She should have considered that when she was dragging my attention away from my beloved "Dick, Jane and Sally." By the way, Sally wore baby shoes in those pictures.  Go Figure!

Figuratively Speaking- Baby Steps #13- Mouse Tales

6"x6" watercolor Price $100

The following is an account of my relationship with mice. As a child, it had mostly to do with Mickey and Minnie or Jerry.  Occasionally my father would catch a mouse in a snap trap.  We were warned severely about the dangers of the traps with, "It will break your finger," a frightful image for me to this day. When the poor mouse was caught, my father would discreetly dispose of it.  I never asked where.  I did, however, ask to see the dead mouse (because I was that kid) and he let me.  It horrified me.  I felt so bad for that sweet little thing.  My father had cataract surgery when I was a little older.  That was in the days when it was a really big deal and he was incapacitated for a long time.  On the day when my father was finally allowed to go back to work, we all marched outside to bid him a celebratory adieu. My mom drove one of those station wagons with a third seat turned backwards.  My dad had a big silver car with fins.  I think it was an Oldsmobile, and it had remained in the driveway which abutted a corn field for the entire time dad was unable to drive.  When my dad pulled out of the driveway we all clapped merrily and then broke into hysterical laughter because a gazillion mice ran out from it and scattered in every direction.  My dad, not realizing anything was amiss, smiled and waved at us until he disappeared from sight.  Now, in the fall, mice usually sneak into our attic, trying to find a friendly and warm home for the winter.  My husband is in charge of catching them.  I don't ask to see them....Go Figure!

Figuratively Speaking - Baby Steps #12- Even for Super Heroes

Even super heroes once wore baby shoes.  My youngest son, Harry, was adopted.  I call him my chosen child.  The rest of his family are tall white folks.  He was tiny until he became a teenager and started playing football. Then he started to look like a super hero.  He was also really agile and wiry.  We were all lanky and rather clumsy.  He was in love with football, dinosaurs and superman.  He was the one who was always wondering off and I spent many hours in frustration looking for him.  A favorite trick of his was to climb to the top of a tree in our front yard and sit there quietly, watching us below looking for him.  He loved that tree too.  It was his private place. He would climb up and wedge his football in the branches and then place his dinosaurs around it to protect it.  Once when we were traveling and had to leave the hotel early in the morning he refused to wake up and was a super crab when he did.  I told him to go lay in the back of the van while we packed it up.  After the packing chaos and finally getting everyone in the van, we took off.  We had some family friends with us as well so it was all a confusion of action, suitcases and plans.  Harry's friend spoke up about an hour after we were on the highway and asked where Harry was.  I said, "In the back sleeping."  He said, "No he isn't."    I of course panicked and imagined all the horrible things that could happen to a child alone in a huge hotel.  We sped back.  I was a nervous wreck and drowning in guilt.  When we arrived back at the hotel, he was eating in the restaurant.  Another quality of Harry's is that he always kind of looked like an orphan and people were always giving him stuff.  He wasn't too upset, until,  once I was done fawning over him, I let him have it.  I don't think he ever wandered off after that.  Go Figure!

Figuratively Speaking - Baby Steps #11- Bird's Eye View

6"x6" pastel $50

It is hard to recognize today's date without thinking about where we were and what we were doing in 2001 on 9/11.  I was a teacher and was in my class when another teacher burst into the room and said to me, "New York is being bombed!"  Besides not having factual news, she had forgotten that my daughter lived in NY.  I got someone to cover my class and ran to find out what was happening.  After many long moments of high anxiety and inability to get her on the phone, she finally was able to get through to me. It was a poignant conversation.  No one on the ground in the city knew what really was happening and communication lines came down quickly. Long story short, she ended up having to hitch hike across the Triborough Bridge to get home.  She had a clear view across the East River to the billowing smoke and dust.  I went down to be with her the following weekend.  She had to go to Pace University to pick up something that weekend.  Pace is a stone's throw from the old World Trade Center buildings.  I will never forget that image and all the sensory input that went with it.  There was a heaviness, a profound sadness in the city and it lasted for a long time.  But, as in all tragedies, and with all the horror of what humans are capable of, it also brings out the best in people and really good people shine forth in the darkness. Who would have guessed a short year before those fateful events, when we were going through all that Y2K nonsense, that  in a short time we would be facing such a huge and real attack.  Our hearts still feel sorrow for the victims, and police and firefighters who gave their lives to try and save others.  I have no more to say on this...Go Figure.

Figuratively Speaking -Baby Steps 9 &10

5"x8" acrylic on Yupo, $50

5"x5", Pentel markers on Yupo, $50

These two little paintings were done during hurricane Irma.  I do not live in Florida, but I was a bit obsessed with with the whole thing because I know a lot of people who do reside there.  They both reflect Irma's influence on me.  The top one, #8, has the dark, broken branch, blowing in the wind look (all unintentional)  and the second one is my tribute to Florida.  It is my interpretation of Floridian colors and I made the rudbeckia look like Palm Trees (kind of).  The shoes represent the peninsula and the lace holes like little tornadoes or hurricanes.  I am grateful that the damage wasn't quite as bad as they had predicted and everyone I know is out of dangers' way and starting to assess the clean-up.  I hope the reports turn positive quickly.  In the northeast we are having a gorgeous day...and weirdly...I feel guilty about that. Go Figure!

Figuratively Speaking - Baby Steps #8- values

Values 6"x6" acrylic on paper Price $50

Football season has begun.  I am the most unlikely of football fans.  It basically goes counter to my values and sensibilities.  It is violent, results in way too many injuries, and the capitalistic culture is greedy and ruthless.  I still am a fan.  I like the energy of the stadium, the excitement of the competition, the athleticism.  When my dad was still with us, my sibs and I had an on-going banter via email all through the season.  I miss that.  When my son was very little he fell in love with football.  We lived in a big 8 town and would take our bikes to campus to ride around until after half time when they would let us in to the stadium for free.  That was good because I was a single mom and had to master the art of finding a diversity of free activities and entertainment.  I went to every single game, home and away, when my son was in high school.  That taught this reluctant learner the basics of the game.  I was incapacitated a couple of years ago and one of my chief entertainments was keeping stats of the NFL games.  I only watch Patriot games or sometimes the KC Chiefs or Denver Broncos. That is more than enough!  So the Patriots are playing KC as I am writing this....my two favorite teams.  KC is stomping the Pat's.  Honestly though, I like sleep better than football and so many of the games go past midnight.  Who can play at that hour?..I don't have the energy to even watch...not sure this post represents my best values.....Go Figure!

Figuratively Speaking-Baby Steps #7

6"x6" watercolor Price $50

My standard nightmare for years involved missing  classes in college.  I was well into parenthood before my night time dreams started easing out of school scenes and switched to those involving me losing kids.  I am back in school, taking an online Color Theory class.  I wonder if this means I am going to start dreaming about missing a test.  In all honestly, that seems like much less of a horror to me than losing an innocent child.  I do have 3 children who have safely (more or less) made it to adulthood.  Being a grandparent is so awesome because you don't have ultimate responsibility for them, and that is a huge relief!  After spending a weekend with my granddaughters, I again had that scary dream, so I guess I am never going to be freed from ultimate responsibility when I am in REM sleep and the alpha waves are running at 15 cycles per second. Oh well.  Ah, for the days of dreaming about a teacher being mad at me.  I know I deserved those dreams as I had many experiences missing classes and tests or handing in assignments late.  However, as far as I know, I haven't lost any children.  My guilt goes deep I guess.....I am a responsible adult, and I fully expect to hand my Color Theory assignments in on time. Maybe I should take a class on dream analysis.  I would probably have nightmares about being lost in my dreams...Go Figure!

Figuratively Speaking - Baby Steps #6- Still Life

6"x6" oil on Yupo Price $50

I like to speak to strangers.  In my mind, everyone is a walking book with a story.  If I have the opportunity of opening those pages and hearing their story, I feel honored.  Of course there is always that possibility of opening it and then not being able to close it...but that happens rarely and there are warning signs if you pay attention (like a look of anticipation, slightly bulging eyes, and a general anxiousness looking for a ready victim).  But, I digress.  I have a friend who told me she hates chit chat.  She doesn't have time for it and sees no redeeming quality in it.  I am not like that.  I consider chit chat to being a segue to something more significant...a portal to their world.  So, today I saw a chance to initiate a conversation with someone I didn't know at the gym.  I saw an easy connection by commenting on her shirt, the style and where she got it, because I really like it and have one in another pattern.  Generally I think everyone is my friend until they choose not to be.  She clearly chose not to be.  She never even looked at me as she mumbled something curt.  So, looking at it from her viewpoint, I looked like a busy body trying to find out things that were none of my business.  From my viewpoint, she just blew a chance to make friends with a really interesting and fun person!  Good thing I have Rhino skin!  Go Figure!