This was the most delicious afternoon that I can remember for the longest time. I actually opened my studio's window and sat on my desk right next to it and drew and painted. I didn't play any music, the house was silent, but I could hear the sounds from the road, the backyards, the sky above, I didn't want to miss a thing. The drawings started off so well and then I hit this wall and hit it again and again. Well, I don't know about you but that is how I grow. It's a family tradition. In kindergarden Lucy couldn't do the monkey bars and she really, really, really wanted to beacuse her friend Victoria did it, and with total mastery of the art. Now I can't be sure what motivated Lucy exactly. but she practiced, and practiced, every day after school she practiced. First she got to the second bar and we stayed on that level for a month then she went to third bar, by the end of the year (and after thousands of blisters in her little palms), she was doing the whole thing, by this September she was doing it backwards, upside down, over the top, hanging from one arm, I was just glad I wasn't there most of the time because I would be a scarity chicken mother and say no, don't do that darling, oh no ,no no... But I try to turn my back when she is doing the works and I am so bloody proud of her, my stubborn, totally determined monkey. And I learned a lesson too.