Corn poppy, or the way of my infatuated brain.

I'm pretty much doing any and everything I can think of to distract myself today. I'm thankful that I work two jobs on days like today when I just know I'd be otherwise engaged sitting at home, pining.

It does nothing to discourage my optimistic yet preoccupied state of mind when, on February 1st, it feels like O sweet spontaneous up in this piece. I don't want to be discouraged from my revelry. But I do. No, I don't. But I kind of do.

I love this painting:

The Corn Poppy, Kees Van Dongen, 1919

I have a small postcard sized print framed on the wall opposite my bed. She reminds me of a place I've never been. I realize that makes little to no sense but I'm positive you have a piece of art or a song or a film that has fallen  into your life that makes you feel the same. I love her flying saucer eyes and how they look beyond you at something to your left, compelling you to turn your head. I've toyed with the idea of recreating the painting as a photograph, you know for giggles but where oh where on earth would I get a hat like that? Where oh where would I get eyes like that, would I get between wars like that? The sweater, well I'm sure I got the sweater.

A small but important section of my family is flying to Florida on Saturday. My car is now leaking anti-freeze right in the middle of this thaw that was never frozen, really. Tomorrow I have errands to run. Saturday I have a reunion. Sunday I have a party. These are all distractions. But I need to return them because they are all malfunctioning. All I keep thinking of is...well, nevermind that.

Let me go see if I can find out when the curling iron was invented. It came up in conversation yesterday, I swear!