Walking with Edgar Degas

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I was asked to take a walk with Degas and what would I say? I would say, Good Morning. Good Afternoon and Good Evening according to the time of day. My head would be pounding and sweat would be roaring inside my shirt. My heart would not slow down and my blood would be pounding under the stress. My eyes would temporarily blur and I would be asking myself about what pill I should have taken before the walk to lessen the pain of needing to be on target.

I needn’t have worried. Edgar was the quintessential French gentleman.

He talked about the environment in which we walked and then, knowing instinctively what I would have asked if I hadn’t swallowed nervously, producing horrendous coughing, he asked me why I thought he painted so many dancers and so many ballerina paintings? I told him I think he totally adored the beauty and grace of the dance, the elegance of the dancing positions, and the beauty held in the dancing body. He smiled and nodded. I told him I was a dancer, a little ballerina, but my boobs got to big and I looked top heavy and ready to fall over with each step I took. Soon thereafter, I was told to pursue another form of expression. He chuckled and chuckled.

On we walked. I told him I couldn’t draw a straight line if I wanted to and he told me that all he did was draw straight lines for half of his life until he moved to New Orleans, Louisiana. He said he finally found the dynamics of his capacity upon moving back to France.

I asked a question finally. Said I, ‘How would you describe how you come upon a subject to paint?” He said, “What I do is the result of reflection and of the study of the great masters of inspiration, spontaneity, temperament, I know nothing more to say.”

We moved along to a salon where some of his paintings were on display showing his different periods and styles. I asked him what he thought as he stood here viewing his work and he answered with a smile and a couple of pats on my back.

I am awake now.

 

So You Think It is Yours!

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We had our worldly goods protected by creating a joint Grantor Trust in 2009. We had one page after another explaining in detail what we wanted to our last piece of dust. Air tight, therefore, water proof. We have had several amendments and a Durable Power of Attorney over health added, but basically it should have remained the same.

We are acquiring a fingerling of land joined to our property as an easement. We feel that this is a wonderful addition especially because it allows us to step out onto a giant hill overlooking much of the San Fernando Valley into the Santa Suzanna Mountains. All of a sudden, now that the pile has been stirred, up comes something we did not expect in the next million years. Mr. owns the house. What? Yes, somehow when our house was being recorded, or perhaps re-recorded to comply with our new trust, the recorder, lazy bum, recorded only Mr.’s name and the last two words, which names a trust we do not, and never had.

I haven’t slept a wink. This morning Mr. says” Don’t worry, I will not charge you rent. You can still have your half of the bed, and things can go along just the same even if it is my house!” Ha, so he thinks. Oh, when the kitchen is a mess, and the house is dirty, whose house is it? I say his. He better live, I told him, otherwise I think probate is what you tried to circumvent in the first place and in the last.

We will get this all straighten out, until the next lazy bum records something inaccurately. By the way, here is something you may wish to check. We thought perhaps the Property Tax Bill would show names. It certainly did. Showed Mr.’s name and his last name as it is on the trust. Oh so wrong, Oh so disturbing that the names have been that way for so many years and no one ever noticed long enough to realize the error. All we can do now is have it re-recorded and hope the next recorder has had an extra cup of coffee that morning. Of course Mr. and Mrs. will be on guard!

When all is said and done, you are invited over for a glass of wine, and we will step out onto the fingerling of land and take in the beautiful lights of the valley below. Every time I go out there from now on, I will say a prayer for all of us, thanking all powers that make mistakes and free the error mongers, me included, from blame.

All is set in stone, the house is properly documented in shared trust format, and the fingerling property now goes with the house in perpetuity. Amen!

 

Simplicity

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A simple thing is really an item that has been trimmed down only in your mind.

If something is uncomplicated in its totality, it has been beforehand stripped of its complications and made simple.

It is effortless in motion, yet has within its meaning, the complications that abound and the ability to complicate.

Why would you need to strip a thought, an item, an effort, a quality, or anything to make it simple?

Perhaps to allow it to guide others in a format they will be able to decipher.

When you give the beholder a more simplistic way to study, converse, you give the beholder easiness and an effortless way to continue to pursue a way to study and live in simplicity.