Here I am, writing another talk. Well, not really because I am writing a journal to get me in the writing mood. I don’t want to be up so early this morning, but I have to leave in three hours, and it’s got to be done. Yesterday Billie Sue and I started early, steaming and scraping the wallpaper off my bathroom walls. Billie Sue is so smart and insightful; it’s a blast talking to her. Why would anyone paste such annoying wallpaper? I’ll never know.; This is exactly why Southwestern design will never return to this home. Carlos came over and helped me peal off the last bits of paper. Now all that wallpaper is in an industrial strength trash bag, knotted up, never to return. I was stupid and got so excited to paint and made some bad painting techniques. Carlos helped me fix them. Now my hallways have the aroma of fresh paint.

Last night Stephanie and I had a good time. We went to see El Grecco to Picasso art show at Phoenix Museum of Art. I left so inspired…ready to paint the world.; For me, there is nothing more gets my creativity pumping like a Picasso. I get kind of nostalgic, really. I see the texture of the brush strokes, the wonderful colors, and I remember when art, painting, was my sole passion. I love what I do now, and these feelings remind me the happy passions of my past.

Stephanie and I talked about our relationships over dinner. We’ve been dating for a while now, long enough to know that you need to decide where things are going. She’s such a cool girl…so talented, happy, and faith-filled. But, I travel so much at this unique time in my life, and I can’t be a good boyfriend. It was a happy talk, both of us feeling the same thing.

This is the first relationship that I know will continue to be her friend. Tonight after Mass I’ll go over her house and work on my painting. I am never perfect, but I feel good about how I’ve been through this relationships. It seems like through every relationship I always end up feeling like less of a person, carrying bricks on my shoulders of things I should’ve done differently.

I didn’t think I would write about this.