Author Archives: ehwfram

About ehwfram

I am an artist living in Vermont, inspired by the day-to-day details of life.

Art & Taxes

Good news coming from Washington seems a pretty elusive beast these days, especially where the arts are concerned. But I was pleased to read recently that our senator Patrick Leahy has taken advantage of the ongoing discussions surrounding tax reform to speak up for artists by introducing The Artist-Museum Partnership Act of 2017. This past March John Lewis (D-Ga.) introduced it in the House of Representatives as well.

It’s a little known fact that artists are only allowed to deduct the cost of materials when they donate their work, while collectors are entitled to deduct the work’s fair market value. How does that make sense? I figure the coffee cup pieces I’ve been making take the better part of 60 hours each to create, not counting the framing. But the materials that go into them run in the neighborhood of only $20, also not counting the frames. If more people were aware of this inequity, there might be greater understanding of why artists are so reluctant to offer their work to fundraising benefits and auctions.

This current bill would make it possible for artists to claim the true worth of their work when donating to museums, making for a win-win situation for those who are working at that level; artists can achieve agreeable compensation and museums will likely receive more work from important living artists to share with the public.

This is a wonderful first step, but I wish the bill would go further. What about the little guy? How many of us have been approached by non-profits with a request for a piece of work that they would like to use to raise funds? Most of us would love to donate, but it’s much more cost effective and advantageous to write a check. Unfortunately, many organizations have no concept of the financial ramifications on an individual artist whose situation is so unlike the other businesses they approach that can freely deduct the value of whatever service or product they pledge.

Of course the sad fact is that, according to the recent press release about the legislation, “Leahy has introduced this bill in each Congress since 2000”, so we will have to wait and see whether it will finally go through. But, I am proud and grateful to live in Vermont where our senator continues to stand up for artists and the arts in general, recognizing and appreciating their value. Let’s all hope that his determination and the greater awareness he brings to the issue will one day lead to success.

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Worth sharing: I found this project by art students from the National Taiwan University of the Arts speaking to the issue of water pollution quite compelling, well executed and particularly effective.

Outside the Studio

Happy June! …month of the summer solstice and the Beta Taurids meteor shower.

I am really looking forward to being part of two exhibitions that open this month, one here in Vermont and another in Portland, Maine. No matter the venue, there is always a sense of liberation in getting work out of the studio and in front of public eyes. I am particularly excited about the Maine exhibit because it’s my first opportunity to show in Maine’s “big city”, the town next door to where I grew up.

Wild Fibers

Wild Fibers, which opens locally on June 2, will be on view through July 9 at the Emile A. Gruppe Gallery in Jericho. It’s a collection of work from members of the Vermont chapter of the Surface Design Association, an international organization focused on “inspiring creativity, encouraging innovation, and advocating for artistic excellence … in textile-inspired art and design”.

We who are part of SDA Vermont are fortunate to have a very active committee that has devoted countless volunteer hours securing and organizing exhibitions across the state in an effort to expose the public to the wide range of possibility that exists within the world of surface design.* I think the growth of our membership can be directly attributed to the success of these shows. I am always amazed at the breadth of skills among our members, so if you have a chance to stop by the Gruppe Gallery in the next 5 weeks, I’m sure you too will be struck by the diversity of work and process on display.

For those of you who might be interested in activist artists who use knitting as a means of voicing their ideas and concerns about the world, let me give a quick plug to my friend and fellow SDA member, Eve Jacobs-Carnahan, who will be presenting the talk “25 Years of Knitters Speaking Out” in conjunction with Wild Fibers. Her talk will be on Friday, June 16th from 6:30-7:30pm, also at the Gruppe Gallery.

Next week I will be shipping five pieces to Able Baker Contemporary for the upcoming show Selvedge, which runs from June 16 to August 5, 2017. If your travels take you anywhere near Portland this summer, I hope you will stop in. Curator Tessa Greene O’Brien has assembled work from nine artists, all of whom incorporate textiles in their practice while strongly maintaining a fine-art approach. The work is process-driven and carries a strong conceptual component. I’m thrilled to have been included and can’t wait to head to Portland in July to experience the show in person.

Selvedge

Able Baker Contemporary is on the Portland Stage block, within 300 yards of The Maine College of Art, Space Gallery, and Space Studios and the Portland Museum of Art, (where I’m excited to see Hans Hofmann; Works on Paper will be showing from June 16 to September 3), — in other words, a cultural hotbed that, combined with Portland’s fine restaurants and oceanside location, makes for an excellent weekend getaway!

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Meanwhile, back to the unglamorous…I am slogging my way through an update of my website, and, as is probably to be expected, it’s way more time-consuming than I’d anticipated. There’s no escaping computer chores! However, to leave you on a happy note, I came across this worthy diversion — a wonderful mix of metaphors and animation by Greg Condon that made me smile; I hope it will amuse you as well.

*Surface design encompasses the coloring, patterning, and structuring of fiber and fabric. This involves creative exploration of processes such as dyeing, painting, printing, stitching, embellishing, quilting, weaving, knitting, felting, and paper-making.

Serendipity

During my first months at college the world began to crack open.
Taking the obligatory introductory courses, each as different from the others as you might expect, I remember coming back to my room one afternoon and realizing that, despite their apparent disparity, threads of information were weaving together and overlapping such that a web of connection was beginning to form. Rather than merely providing separate pockets of information to be remembered for the inevitable test, a pathway was suddenly opening toward seeing the world as a unit composed of links and associations layered upon each other, offering a widened and enriched viewpoint reliant upon that interdependence. It was a seminal moment that has stayed with me.

Since then, it’s always a joy when unexpected associations appear between seemingly unrelated events/subjects, the discovery of which elevates the routine with a bit of the magical. Visiting Montreal this past weekend was one of those occasions when serendipity held the reins. Partway through the weekend I realized that the three major events we attended could not have been more interconnected, even though I wouldn’t have thought so at the onset.

VOLTA Cirque du Soleil photo credit: Patrice Lamoureaux

First, Cirque du Soleil never, ever, disappoints. An example of sensory enrichment on overload, the troupe’s mastery of color, light, sound and daring physical feats is unsurpassed. At a time when I sometimes feel we are sadly in danger of building immunity to a state of wonder, due mainly to our media-driven saturation of deadly events and despicable behavior world-wide, it is utter pleasure to put aside any jaded perspectives for a couple of hours in order to experience the pure joy of human creativity. The current show, Volta, “is a story of transformation. It is about being true to oneself, fulfilling one’s true potential, and the power of the group to make that possible. It celebrates freedom as a movement”.

In hindsight it makes total sense that, in the midst of the surplus of color and visual excitement on view in Chagall: Colour and Music at the Musée des Beaux-Arts, I began to draw parallels with what I had seen under the big tent the night before. So much more than a chronological compilation of a lifetime’s work, the Chagall retrospective is also an extravaganza of color, light, sound (Chagall’s lifelong devotion to music was an integral part of his work), and daring physical feats — as seen in the trapeze artist below, or in the soaring lovers so often associated with his work.

Standing in a room devoted to paintings of the circus, the proverbial lightbulb went on as I realized that Chagall, who had escaped to the United States just in advance of World War II, created art that offered a source of respite and joy amid a world seemingly run amok. And similar to Cirque du Soleil, his work honors the principle Volta espouses: being wholly true to oneself. Reading the following quote on the wall of a gallery filled with Chagall’s circus collages and paintings made the connection with Cirque du Soleil all the more meaningful:

The Circus as a Metaphor for the World
Depictions of the circus, present in the imagery of Chagall’s earliest creations and an essential theme until the end of his life, arose from his vision of the world firmly rooted in Hasidism. This branch of Judaism conceives of the world as a game of divine will and apprehends God through overflowing joy, ecstasy, singing, dancing, music and acrobatics. For Hasidim, clownishness and humor are the incarnation of spiritual values that ensure the salvation of humanity. Traveling performers and musicians enlivened religious celebrations with their little shows in which biblical themes were intermingled with comic interludes, pantomimes and humorous plays accompanied by music.

Marc Chagall

And while I was aware that Chagall had worked with stained glass toward the end of his life (read about the windows he created for the Art Institute of Chicago in this post), there was much I didn’t realize. He also designed tapestries and was a sculptor and a ceramicist. His love of opera ultimately pulled him from a deep depression and an inability to create after the sudden death of his first wife. His return to work involved designing extensive costumes and sets for multiple operatic and balletic productions, culminating in the creation of a nearly 2,600 square foot painting that now graces the ceiling of the Paris Opera House. Immersed in his colorful world, which honored music as much as visual art, the fact that he had synesthesia makes perfect sense.

Fox costume designed for the ballet Aleko, Marc Chagall

As a final nod to the power of imagination and creative spectacle, we were incredibly fortunate that our visit coincided with the weekend that the giant marionettes of Royal de Luxe (a street theater company based in Nantes, France) roamed the streets of Montreal as part of its 375th birthday celebration. Leaving the Chagall exhibition, we made it to the Place des Arts just in time to get a ‘ring-side’ seat for the arrival of the Deep Sea Diver. Despite his enormity (50 ft.?), he was spectacularly deft as he strode into the square with eyes that blinked and seemed to look right at you. The acrobatics of 20-30 handlers, swarming over him like Lilliputians, brought him to life, enabling his movements via pulleys and ropes. They did nothing to break the spell he cast on the crowd and I don’t think I’m being too dramatic to say we could all only gasp in awe to be in the presence of a living giant.

The Deep Sea Diver arrives at Place des Arts, Montreal

Deep Sea Diver by Royal de Luxe

The word circus derives from the Greek kirkos, meaning “circle” or “ring”. How appropriate that these three exhibitions formed an unexpected circle of connection between each other, looping back and forth in their collective presentations of color, light, sound, and daring physical feats. And how serendipitous to have experienced them all in a single weekend.

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The exhibition Chagall: Color and Music runs through June 11, 2017

Cirque du Soleil Volta will be on view in Montreal through July 23

Seasonal Change as Incentive

After weeks of chill and rain and oogling other folks’ pictures on Instagram of gardens and trees that have long since come to life, the leaves are finally filling in and spots of color are beginning to bloom on our hill. I think it’s safe to say that, almost five full months into 2017, spring has finally taken root in Vermont.

The external changes of the seasons also tend to have an impact on me internally, so seasonal change-over invariably becomes a time for re-evaluating and rebooting work patterns. While posing the question of whether there are ways to improve isn’t a guarantee of definitive answers, I still think it’s healthy, and invariably productive, to at least take stock of studio habits at several points during the year. Juggling various goals and aspirations is an ongoing process requiring a certain level of flexibility, so there is much to be said for working to build habits that can improve efficiency, leaving time for change.

If you haven’t already read Charles Duhigg’s 2012 book The Power of Habit – Why We Do What We Do in Life and Business, it’s worth picking up from your library. The case studies he covers, both corporate and individual, are fascinating in their own right, but of course the real value of the book is in understanding the possibilities for applying his findings to our own habits and the ways we might want to change or develop them. What I found most compelling is the importance of belief (that the habit can become fully established) and the necessity of community, even just one other person, in fostering both the essential element of belief and, ultimately, success.

When I decided to recommit myself to drawing at the beginning of 2015, the most helpful advice I received was to incorporate it into my routine as a habit, relying on a self-determined trigger to spur myself into action at a regular time every day. Starting slowly with very short sessions allowed for gradually expanding both the time and scope devoted to each sketch…to the point where now I miss drawing and even feel something of a sense of guilt on the days I can’t fit it in.

If you are trying to make regular time for a new element in your creative practice, check out Ingrid Sundberg’s video, a step-by-step outline about building an early morning writing habit. While Sundberg’s recommendations are geared toward writing, her method is very similar to what was recommended to me for committing to daily drawing, and can easily be adjusted to fit whatever habit you may want to develop. Both approaches coincide with the core of what Charles Duhigg suggests in The Power of Habit.

Is there something that you’ve been wanting to build into a new habit? If so, take advantage of the change in season and give it a shot.

A Good Puzzle

Even though the individual works in this coffee cup series may at first glance seem repetitive, in actuality they are anything but. All have been challenging in their own way, offering plenty of hurdles to puzzle through. I like the word “puzzle” because it has positive connotations. Figuring out how to stitch each new image is a bit like picking up the latest mystery by a trusted author: the overall structure and style are comfortably familiar, yet the details and storyline are ripe for new discoveries. Nuances of light and form make each piece in this series unique from the others, every one a riddle unto itself, waiting to be solved.

This stack of two cups has been particularly sticky and so far I’ve probably spent just as much time backtracking and restitching as I did laying in the initial pass-through. Color is such a crucial consideration in trying to capture the definition and curve of the cups’ forms. Combinations of different threads and variation of stitches make the possibilities virtually limitless, which also opens the door to plenty of near misses. It’s often the case, as I wrote about in this post, that even the slightest change can make a huge difference. As you scroll through these process shots you can see the many, often subtle, changes I’ve made as I’ve reassessed and redone in an effort to get it right. And I can guarantee that what you see in the final shot here will be changed again before the piece is finished.

The necessity of working with, rather than fighting against, the dyed ground is probably the greatest lesson this piece has held for me to this point. The area around the image is so very dark and deeply saturated that I’ve had to make adjustments, recalibrating from what was becoming comfortably predictable in the previous pieces, all of which have a background of a relatively mid-range value. But that’s not to downplay the enjoyment to be found in the challenge of discovering ways to mesh the variation of light and dark within the background, unplanned as those values were when dyed, such that they support and enhance the definition of the image that is stitched on top.

Yes, at times it’s frustrating, but for the most part this process of seeking a solution is tremendously gratifying, exactly like a good puzzle.

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For those of you who share my weakness for books and puzzles, I know you’ll agree it’s fun when the two come together. I couldn’t resist buying Chasing Vermeer when it came out, ostensibly for our kids, but in all honesty, just as much for myself. And one of the more memorable elements of Anthony Doerr’s All The Light We Cannot See, was the hand made miniature city Marie-Laure’s father crafted for her to develop her sense of touch, each building a birthday puzzle with a gift to be discovered inside once the puzzle was solved. With that in mind, wouldn’t you love to get your hands on one of these amazing creations?!

Words to Draw By

One can travel this world and see nothing. To achieve understanding it is necessary not to see many things, but to look hard at what you do see. ~ Georgio Morandi

Drawing is rather like playing chess: your mind races ahead of the moves that you eventually make. ~ David Hockney

Drawing is not what one sees, but what one can make others see. ~Edgar Degas

I have learned that what I have not drawn, I have never really seen. ~ Frederick Franck

Reframing What Goes On In The Studio

In general, I don’t think there’s enough discussion by artists about the nuts and bolts of what we do that doesn’t involve creating art. Alyson Stanfield of Art Biz Coach has and continues to make tremendous headway in helping us understand and gain ground on the non-making side of our careers, but I do wish more artists would draw back the curtain on their individual approaches to the business end of their practices. Not only would sharing those details give viewers and collectors a better understanding that making “a go” of things isn’t only about materializing ideas and inspiration into a finished work, but fellow artists would also profit greatly from a wider discussion of the different systems that occur within our workspaces.

This week I’ve been largely caught up in administrative tasks. Practice-wise, I was only able to accomplish my daily sketches and the beginning stages of two new textile pieces. For the most part it’s been a week of support work: framing the cup and saucer pieces and tending to various computer chores — including, but not exclusive to, preparing submissions for two exhibitions, crafting specific artist statements, photography, research, email, and of course writing this post.

During weeks when I have my fingers in a lot of different pies and find myself jumping from task to task, (when I’d really rather be stitching for hours at a time), I’ve found two things to rely upon for a sense of balance. First, I do my best to make at least one daily drawing. A half hour minimum is doable most days and not only lends a sense of grounding in its regularity, (no different from any other type of exercise), but each page filled in a sketchbook gives me a concrete sense of productivity in a way computer work can’t. That in itself makes the day seem more successful, even if the drawing is less than stellar.

I’ve also found it’s helpful to have a good, long book in the works that I can retreat to in the evening because it offers a feeling of continuity that carries from one day to the next — a quality that is often missing from the rest of a week that is all about checking off a string of to-do’s.

Now that they are in place, I am very happy with these maple floating frames. I particularly like that they complete the cup and saucer pieces by providing subtle visual support without grabbing too much attention. For the fun of it, and a completely opposite approach, check out the work of Holly Lane whose fabulously carved frames merge with her paintings in a 2-D/3-D amalgam that suggests, as she says in her statement, “contingency, time, potentiality, future, past, or cause and effect.”

And if you’re looking for something meaty to think about while making your way through your own list of office chores, consider the editorial “Why You Should Read Books You Hate” that appeared in the NY Times last Sunday. I guarantee it will get your wheels turning.

Be Careful How Much You Say

“Design is a way out of confusion”
– Platon, photographer

This past week I finished the NETFLIX series Abstract: The Art of Design which delves into the minds and careers of eight top designers who practice within different branches of the field. Covering a myriad of ideas, each program highlights and demystifies a leader who has reached the pinnacle of her/his discipline, one step at a time. Listening as these artists/designers discuss in their own words the generation and evolution of their ideas makes the series especially inspiring. In fact, even the episodes that center on a discipline I wouldn’t ordinarily care much about (such as car design), had me hanging on every world.

In mulling over some of the takeaway lessons afterward, I was particularly moved by the sentiments of the photographer Platon. His portraits, of both the powerful and powerless alike, lean on simplicity, boldness, and clarity to convey the story and essence of each subject, rather than extraneous details or elaborate backdrops.

Growing up with extreme dyslexia, Platon found the world unmanageably complicated and had trouble coping with what, to him, was a cacophony of stimulation. Design became a means of making sense of that complexity. By capturing the core of a subject and condensing information to only what is necessary, he found a key to interpreting his surroundings. That inclination toward self-editing has, in turn, become the foundation of his artistic success while modeling an important lesson for any of us.

With practice, I am beginning to better understand the wisdom that what you omit via editing is just as important as what you let remain. It’s understandable that we tend to be protective of favorite passages as we work, but we have to fight that instinct. Being of a mind to vigilantly cull out the unnecessary, in deference to clarity and conciseness, is much more valuable for longterm growth and development. Admittedly, such self-control is much more challenging to accomplish in the moment while drawing with ink, than over numerous drafts while typing on the computer. But regardless of medium, the importance of editing is inarguably one of the best tools available.

It’s not so much what you say, it’s what you leave out that makes a piece soar.

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This short post by Clint Watson on Fine Art Views, makes the crucial point that judicious editing is another level of communication, showing your viewer not just what you are making, but more importantly, why you are going to the effort.

And on a lighter note: are you familiar with the band Darlingside? If not, check out this video, or you can find their music on Spotify. While chatting up the audience at a recent concert they mentioned that they get a lot of questions about their name. Explaining that they had a teacher who counseled the adage that you have to “kill your darlings” for successful writing, a name was born. Choosing to steer clear of the intonation of death inferred in “Darlingcide”, they opted for Darlingside as a more acceptable name. Either way, another nod to the multilayered benefits of editing.

A Mixed Bag of Reasons to Love Chicago

First of all, were you aware that the name “Chicago” is derived from a French interpretation of the Native American (Miami-Illinois language) word shikaakwa, a plant known to botanists as Allium ticoccum? More commonly referred to as ramps by Vermonters, Allium ticoccum is a species of wild onion with garlicky overtones that is a spring specialty here, soon to be foraged and served on home and restaurant tables all over our state.

Sunrise over Lake Michigan

The genesis of the city’s name as we know it today appears to be French explorer Robert de LaSalle’s September 1687 journal, in which he noted, “…we arrived at the said place called Chicagou which, according to what we were able to learn of it, has taken this name because of the quantity of garlic which grows in the forests in this region.” Now that’s my kind of place!

A decade ago our daughter moved to Chicago for school and never left, so at this point we’ve visited enough times that it has become comfortably familiar while still maintaining plenty of novel opportunities and sites to explore. Just back from a long spring weekend where the forsythia is already starting to bloom (but no ramp sightings), I’ve been thinking this week how great it is to have a place to visit just frequently/infrequently enough to maintain a list of favorites to see time and again, which still somehow always seem fresh.

Millennium Park is a special place and easy to get to as it’s right next to the Art Institute. Anish Kapoor’s Cloud Gate may be the main attraction for most but, to me, Frank Gehry’s Pritzker Pavillion is the jewel in the park’s crown.

Marc Chagall’s large stained glass America Windows at the Art Institute of Chicago always take my breath away and are well-worth the hike to the farthest corner of the museum to see. Secular in theme, they bring together symbols of American history, the Chicago skyline, and a representation of the arts. Please save ten minutes to watch this wonderful video from the Art Institute about the history, creation, conservation and reinstallation of this treasure.

Marc Chagall, America Windows 1975-77; Left panel representing Music and Painting

Marc Chagall, America Windows 1975-77; Middle panel representing Literature and Architecture

Marc Chagall, America Windows, 1975-77; Right panel representing Theater and Dance

Arrangement in Grey and Black No. 1 * (Whistler’s Mother) by James McNeill Whistler has returned to Chicago for the first time in 60 years. As I found was also true of the Mona Lisa, its subject appears warmer and lovelier in person. Contrary to the Mona Lisa, which was much smaller than I’d expected, it was a surprise that Whistler’s Mother is almost life-size. All that said, I was much more attracted to this relatively small painting of Whistler’s brother, appreciating it for its painterly brushstrokes and unconventional placement of the figure. The added bonus was I had it all to myself while everyone else crowded around Mrs. Whistler.

Portrait of Dr. William McNeill Whistler, 1871/73, Oil on panel, 43.7 x 34.8 cm (17 3/16 x 13 11/16 in.)

It’s hard to resist a visit to Dick Blick even if just to wander the aisles, but I usually keep any purchases to a minimum because of the hefty Chicago 10.25% sales tax. I’ve been on the lookout for a larger format, soft-cover sketchbook that would open flat for a double spread, yet be thin and light enough to easily tuck into a carry-on. I found two possibilities. The staplebound Fabriano EcoQua is really meant for writing, but the paper is pretty similar to a Moleskine and takes the ink from a Micron pen without bleeding.

The other selection I brought home is the 8.5″x11″ RendR Lay Flat sketchbook made by Crescent. It boasts ‘no show thru’ paper, which was a major attraction, and I also liked the idea that it is supposed to accept all media. Despite promising a lot, now that I’ve had a chance to try it I don’t think it was worth the cost. Perhaps acrylics work better than watercolors as a wet media, but I found the paper tends to buckle and it’s hard to move wet pigment around on the page. The paper is a nice weight, has a smooth surface for pen or pencil, and doesn’t bleed. But overall, I don’t think I would buy one again.

Rendr Sketchbook

There wasn’t much time to sketch over the weekend – too many other fun things to see and do. But once back on the plane to fly home, I could bring out my trusty OPUS sketchbook, purchased on another trip in another city, and get back in the saddle.

* Worth a read: 14 Things You Might Not Know About Whistler’s Mother

An Unexpected Cold Remedy

But first — happy news this past week! I had the wonderful opportunity to meet and chat with painter Tessa Greene O’Brien, who generously took an afternoon off from her residency at the Vermont Studio Center for a studio visit here with me. Tessa is organizing an exhibition at Able Baker Contemporary in Portland, ME this June/July, which will be based on the work of a number of artists who take a formal and painterly approach to their work while incorporating textiles in some form. I am very honored and excited to have been invited to participate! Stay tuned for further details as they unfold.

Meanwhile, it’s that time of the year again. The seasons are changing and my “number came up”, meaning it was my turn to contend with a head cold. Enough time has passed since my last one that I have no right to complain, but it’s hard to be stoic when it feels like your head is filled with socks and that you’re dragging the equivalent of Jacob Marley’s chains from room to room. I know you know the feeling.

I’m fortunate it didn’t last long, and I am grateful that the combo of a sketchbook and a pen make for a great diversion. You can’t spend too much time concentrating on how miserable you feel when your brain is busy comparing the space between shapes and getting a curve “just so”.

I continue to be challenged by the relatively wide line of my Lamy Safari fountain pen. Crosshatching and creating a sense of form with a much finer .01 Micron nib is comparatively effortless, producing lines that seem to be naturally more energetic. The thicker stroke of the Safari feels decidedly more awkward and necessitates thinking more in terms of variety of mark and pattern in order to achieve values and textural interest.

Drawing with this pen is a whole different ball game and one that doesn’t come particularly easily to me. But I’m determined to stick with it for two reasons: 1) it’s the only pen I have that glides smoothly (without wearing down), over the relatively rough paper of my Classic Cachet sketchbook… & I still have 1-1/2 sketchbooks of this paper yet to fill! And 2) I’m committed to making it work and hope that by putting in the hours I’ll achieve some level of proficiency. After three months of pretty much daily practice, I’m beginning to see some faint glimmers of progress, but I still have a long way to go.

I am reminded of my past post The Reward of Getting it Wrong, in which I wrote about Kathleen Speranza acknowledging that you have to make many, many pieces in order to glean a handful of successes. She estimates she achieves about a 50% success rate; I am way behind that.

But being cozied up on the sofa with the dog, a cup of tea, and a box of kleenex nearby is not only as good a time as any to log in some practice, but also my best suggestion for getting ahead of a pesky cold.

Elizabeth Fram

Eye of the Needle