I was watching the documentary, House of Z.  Oh, fashion.  First of all, clothes…. that’s right.  So beautiful.  Then the craft.  Amazing.  Twelve seamstresses sewing on one dress, at 4 o’clock in the morning.  I could have said 4am – but twelve seamstresses deserve the drama of “4 o’clock in the morning.”  I have always loved fashion.  Maybe because my mother did.  Maybe because I just did.  Maybe because of the art form.  And it is an art form.  I love the detail.  The colors.  The draping.  I even like saying “draping” – or typing it.  Draping.  My mother always wanted to be a dress designer.  Of course I didn’t know this until we were both adults and had the courage to tell each other our dreams.  Adulthood gave us the safety, ironically of being schoolgirls, and telling each other what made us so  happy.  And what a joy to share the beauty.  What a joy to let our hearts be exposed and admit how something could make us so vulnerable and so happy.  I guess that’s what art does. It gave us the courage to dream.  To work “regular” jobs.  To be extraordinary on ordinary days.  To be special.  I hope that’s what my art does.  And so I create.  I paint.  I write.  And I keep hoping that the world still needs someone to make dresses that no one will wear.  That people still need beauty.  That receptionists can be dress designers.  That people are willing to share their hearts and hopes, with their mothers and friends and spouses and coworkers.  I celebrate that people still work together and alone in the wee hours to make something beautiful.  We dared this as whispering school children.  I dare it still.  I hope you do too.