"Ruby Slippers" Oil on Canvas 8x10 |
For me it was a crystal clear memory of more than a year ago...I was in Santa Fe. After a long day of strolling Canyon Road galleries and boutiques along the Plaza, I'm at the Coyote Cafe Rooftop Bar--One of my favorite stops. Probably about to order a mango margarita and some veggie tacos. In other words, a heavenly artist day...
But I'm with friends (and some folks I don't know that well). We've been out a while and moods are turning as the weather chills. The place is packed and loud and service grinds to a halt. I'm starving, tired, and my feet are beginning to burn. Am less than thrilled with my less than practical footwear choice. And then a waiter (or perhaps another customer trying to cheer me up) catches a flash of red as I cross my tired legs and I get a "cute shoes."
And for a moment, I'm glad I didn't just throw on my scratched and faded practical Merrills. The searing pain is briefly tolerable. But a few minutes later I'm cold, fighting a headache, and trying to follow a heated discussion out about some sushi dinner reservations gone bad. And as wonderful as my day has been in one of my favorite places to visit been I find myself wishing I could click my sore heels and be magically back at home in my quiet and calming studio. Because there's simply no place like it.
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