I was talking to my sister on the phone a couple of days ago and she told me a story about something that had happened to her.  She was sitting at a stop light looking across the intersection at at truck that had, "C H I C A G O" emblazoned upon the cargo compartment.  As the traffic light went from red to green, it simply passed on by her, and disappeared into the population of cars on the other side of the highway.  And she thought about the phenomenon of things passing through, passing by each other, brushing against one another and then disappearing in whatever direction life (or death) takes them.

Funny, how similar her thoughts are to the crux of my show at the Wolff Gallery in March - I mean, my "ghost ships" show.   I went to the first Friday opening at Wolff tonight.  Everybody there was nice, but I felt awkward anyway.  I don't do small talk well...or at all, really.  I said some things that were ridiculous at best, and then my talking companion was pulled away for a photo op, and I seized the moment and went home to my cats.

Speaking of cats, I was lying there on my bed this morning, and as always, Punkin was right there by my side.  And I thought to myself, "Thank the Universe for letting this particular being come into existence at a time when I could be his person."