and thank you too

This year Thanksgiving was so very meaningful. Adam, who you've heard me talk about, who I adore, had open heart surgery on Wednesday. It was yesterday, the day of Thanks, that I was truly able to appreciate so much love and living in my life. Adam is recovering and thanks to technology and his very own spirit, he is still here, still witty and still being sustained by his ever so big heart. Surrounded by true, porch light friends, (those folks I'll still know when I'm 81, sitting and sipping and story telling on my porch, preferably in a swinging bench, much like the one from Fayes, only levitating and back lit by a sunset), I was able to share what it is I'm thankful for. Before enjoying the beautiful bounty of food last night, each guest relayed something/someone they are grateful for. After Hans had us laughing and admiring his love of "rock music and the letter "a," it was time to also share more personal triumphs. Stu, the father of one of our hosts, recalled his thanks. He was grateful to be alive, after having heard from doctors that he wouldn't be around yesterday. He was supposed to be dead months prior to our celebration. But Stu was there, he was alive and well and cherished each breath. I was, and am, grateful for Adam's successful procedure and his never ending generosity. Mark was grateful for California, as am I. Mikey was thankful for Cinderella soup and not having to move furniture. Our gratitude ran the gamut, with each acknowledgement filled with love, laughter and longevity.

As of late, I have been reminded of just how very dear people are to me. Of how supremely lucky I am to have such exuberant and honest love in my life. Life, but a brief moment on this simply complex planet of ours, is so precious. I can only hope that the people in my life who I am blessed enough to love, love me back. And so far, those who do, really do, they show up and let me be me, and love me for it, as much as I love them. I reconnected with my ex-boyfriend recently. I realized that he is not the one for me, but that he and I still deserve love and respect, coming from each other. No matter the hardship, the heartbreak nor hereafter, I wish to be, and am, filled with love. Thank you to each person who willingly and willfully receives it. For it is real and true as are you.

Guerrilla style graffiti that says it all. So simple, so true, the old "i love you."

Each time I walk down Dearborn Street, I am greeted by this reminder. I love it. I seek to take this street each chance I get. It's this one way street that also invites me into the secret garden where I so desperately want to get a plot of land. I would try to grow chard, tomatoes, some flowers and maybe even cucumbers so I could make my very own spa water. A little oasis this sweet street is. I love it, and love that it loves me right back.

2 things . . .

Last night, my dear friend Danica and I spent some quality time (albeit brief). We shopped a charitable event. She purchased the non-profit goods, I promised too, and will! And then she knowingly suggested that I try on a few frocks. Danica is a lover. She loves animals, people, she loves fabric, and apparently my silly, curvy figure. So, upon her informed, style savvy request, I donned some beautiful garments. The one I fell for, that was seemingly made for my wayward frame, I couldn't afford. But also, couldn't afford not to love and then purchase. Upon delegating it to a layway, dream status, we were informed that all clothes in the sore were 30% off, just that night. I had to buy it, and I did. Good thing our holiday party is approaching, otherwise my ever present guilt would be ever encroaching! So here it is, my new found love. And thanks to one Adam Josef, this dress wasn't just a dream deferred, but a reality made clear on a Wednesday in November. Thanks Adam, for more than this dress.

And then, if there wasn't enough love to go around, I happened upon a great guitar player today. He payed me a bit of attention too . . . along with the rest of a small, tourist filled audience who kept asking "who is he?" He is Mat Kearney, and I think I heard one of his songs first as background cues on a sappy TV show, and then via my sweet sister. I got to hear him play 2 great songs and then leave, reaffirmed on love and life. I then made my way off to experience art at SF MOMA that managed to reinstate those same sentiments, via portraiture and paintings from the 1950s and more contemporary decades that couldn't speak to me in more relevant terms. Thank you today. Thank you for providing me with people I love to be surrounded by, for clothes I love to touch and wear, and for sublime art that inspires me. Sometimes I forget that life is good, because I'm seeing to it that I show others how to enjoy it . . . When, really, the only way to share is to know yourself and then grant others such vision. Yesterday and today, I got to see and feel and be the passion that I so love in life. It's good to be free, grand to be independent and phenomenal to be a sponge in this odd circumstance we call "life." Thank you, to whom it may concern . . .
Sweet sighs abounding, smk

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FCpqeMhK0cg