My husband, Lee, took this picture of me in January 2009, right after I got my computer. I'd worked with computers practically all of my life, but had never had one of my very own, and, frankly, up until then, had never been particularly interested in owning one. I had always just simply shared my husband's. Lee, and I mean this in the nicest sense, is a computer geek, and the one great disadvantage of sharing a computer with a geek is that you will never find your stuff in the same place twice. Lee would load programs, remove them, "improve" them, move files around, and it all made perfect sense to him, but to me, turning on the computer was more adventure than I wanted just to check the balance on my checking account. Clearly, this little computer chick (moi), was ready to fly solo . . .
I really like this picture of me, and, in many ways, this is how I see myself. I dream about staying home and writing the "Great American Novel" (or, at least, the next bestseller) . . . I dream about being mistress of my own time . . . and in my dream, my hair always looks good and I'm wearing lipstick . . .
This poem, by Langston Hughes, hangs on my vision board . . .
My sister-in-law, Barb, made me the "Dream" glass pendant a while back. It's become part of my vision board.
I have it all planned out in my head. Yes, I want to see the Basilica di San Marco, that gorgeous Byzantine cathedral, built to house the remains of St. Mark . . . Of course, I want to quietly glide down its sleepy canals in a gondola, manned by a handsome gondoliere . . . Naturally, I want to visit the island of Murano, where all that marvelous glass is blown, and, who knows, perhaps pick up a little something to bring home . . . But I also I want to go to Vivaldi's Church, the church where Antonio Vivaldi worked as choirmaster while he composed some of his masterpieces. I read in "1,000 Places To See Before You Die" that the "Four Seasons" is performed here regularly - by candlelight! Finally, I want to sit in Harry's Bar, the original Harry's Bar that drew Hemingway time and again, and drink a "Bellini" - its signature drink - while watching the tourists stroll happily through St. Mark Square . . . Sweet dreams are made of this . . .