Art-chester Mystery House

The Winchester mystery house in San Jose was built by a rich woman who believed a psychic who told her she wouldn't die as long as she kept adding rooms to her house. I seem to be doing the same thing with artwork.

Months ago, my friend Emily told me about an artist in Ho Chi Minh City who hand-paints reproductions of any artwork you give him. I asked her to have him reproduce a painting by one of my favorite surrealist painters, Mark Ryden. Then her work travel schedule changed drastically, and I really didn't think she'd be going to Viet Nam often enough to deal with it. She showed up at my door with it on Sunday. It's almost dot-perfect and HUGE. I am going to have to do some major rearranging of my other art to be able to hang it, but I've put off that chore by taking it to the framers down the street. The old man apparently stretches his own canvases and he had stapled it on the visible sides, so it really needed framing anyway, but I'm glad to have the time to plan for its placement.

I've been relatively busy and social since the ugh lifted. I didn't do anything on New Year's Eve. In fact, I was asleep by 10. On New Year's Day, I went to Robert's for the traditional blackeyed peas, cabbage and rice dinner. Kevin and the Garcias were there, and we had a nice quiet afternoon.

The next day, Saturday, I took down my tree. (I watched the garbage collector throw it into the chipper truck this morning from my window.) Laura visited me in the afternoon and we had a late lunch together. Sunday, Emily came over with the painting and we also had a late lunch togehter.

I was so proud of my industriousness, in that I started up the roman blind project the very next day after taking down the tree. I got one tube tape sewn on, and then the bobbin case on the machine broke. So now that project is stalled until I can get the dadgum thing fixed.

I'm trying to look beyond the last chemo infusion now, and I've actually made a few plans. I'm going to Mexico with Robert, Kevin and Marjeanne in late February for a few days of sun and sea. In early March I start a weekly linocut class with Katie Gilmartin, the artist who did my recently-purchased linocut print, and in mid-March, I go to NYC to see Sondheim's 80th birthday concert. There's a lot more I want to do, but I want to wait for the post-chemo CT scan and a frank discussion with Dr. Liu before I make firm plans for more. Until chemo is over, I really don't know how I feel, since I attribute all of my symptoms to the chemo, when some of them may be due to the cancer itself for all I know.