New Year's Resolution.

Charlotte influencing me. 2011.

I resolve to become a bad influence on others.

Happy New Year!

Running With Scissors.

I got to spend most of the day with my wonderful niece Michelle. She is one of those accomplished young women who has figured out her priorities quite young.

She is a very accomplished horse woman who is now a champion side saddle rider. She is winning prizes everywhere. Her love of historic costume is definitely a result of my influence. So is her love of vintage and antique cloth and clothing. Junking is our shared passion with her cousin Brie. The two of them have nearly absconded all of my antique clothing and some of my jewellery.

Her sensitivity is defined by such clear borders it astounds me. I now ask her for advice about things. Our relationship is so easy and fun.

I have been very blessed in the niece department. Thank goodness because I only had sons and brothers. All of them are amazing to me and I am close to the bunch. Each one is strong, smart and compassionate for the most part. Two are now Mommies and have given me wonderful great nieces.

How nice is it to spend time sitting with a little girl and showing them to thread a needle and sew. I remember learning that from my Grandfather. Just the thrill of seeing two pieces of cloth joined together to become something else. To make a little doll or a little pocket. Thrilled to death to get to make the sewing machine run. And to receive scraps from leftovers for quilts and embellishment or pony blankets.

I also showed all the boys to sew. Dane and Bren could operate a needle by three. Chris made a complete doll at seven. Stephen helped repair his teddy. Each one of them would cuddle and watch me sew. Contrary to popular belief boys also love to sew. Former generations of men in our family have been involved in cloth production or sheep ranching.

Michelle is interested in historic riding costumes and consults with a costumer named LaFlamme. She went to museums in England and Scotland to look at textiles and designs.
She is now an instructor at a college and focuses on a scientific profession. But she loves cloth.

Merry Mukluks

My new moccassins made by the Mukluk Mama Adeline Dickie

Detail Moccassin Beading



Last Minute Christmas Beret

Tim gave me the most beautiful moccassins for Christmas made by the Mukluk Mama herself!
Hand beaded and smoke tanned moose hide with a moose fur cuff. They were made by Adeline Dickie (White Medicine Bear Woman) from the Fort Nelson Reserve. Her beading is so tight and beautifully done and the moccassins fit like they were made for my feet alone. They are made in the Slavey - Northern Cree tradition.

I am not taking off my new red Christmas pajamas or my mocs all day. I plan on being very comfortable warm and a little light headed if I have to cook dinner for today. All will be consumed in short order or made into New Year's Pies.

Everyone decided that the P.J thing was a good idea and half the guests arrived in suitable nightwear. Tim and I wore our new P.J.'s. Somehow it took the edge off any family strife.

Have the most lovely day. At least once a year.

Images From The Northern Journey

Leaving The Fort


Alaska Highway






Alaska Highway




Quesnel - Barkerville Highway to Wells, B.C.






Wells house/gallery in the snow. All ready for move -in.

Leaving The Fort

We are now packing to leave Fort Nelson one last time. The weather outside really is frightful. It is now colder than 20 below. There are snowstorms and road closures on the way to Wells, our next destination. Snow and ice fog are expected.

The apartment here is cozy, warm and comfortable. Tim has a homebody instinct. I didn't really have much to do with it other than to help him pack up in Vancouver and impose myself on him when I had to. It smells like baking in here. He is a good cook and an incredible baker. He keeps making me hot Bailey's to drink.

I haven't been great company because I landed here with the flu and had to crawl into bed for the last few days being a complete misery to us both. Got up today and walked the few blocks into town to pick up some food and treats for our trip. It was so cold outside that I had a hard time breathing on the way home, my thick mittens didn't keep me warm and my parka was city girl useless. Didn't undress at all when I got in the door and rushed to make hot tea. I was a Popsicle.

We attended the most lovely farewell/holiday party at our friend's Don and Pauline White. They have the most beautiful big log house a few miles out of Fort Nelson. They are both Newfoundlanders by birth. I am by heritage. Pauline pulled out a series of Mummer ornaments that made me cry. I was the only other person there who had experienced Mummers in person. They are almost like scarecrows. People dress up in these costumes without faces and come to your door at Christmas time. You are supposed to offer them food and drink although you have no idea who they are in real life or if you even know them. Hospitality and generosity are the key. You don't know if they are a derelict or a wise man. Your job is to make them welcome and cared for. Children are often terrified of Santa but he is a gentle looking soul compared to the anonymous Mummer.

The food was phenomenal. Tables full of food. Every kind of delicious food and drink. I was forced to drink a blue drink called a Blue Eyed Blonde. Went down better the second time. It was fun and silly. The people here became friends and really will be missed by both Tim and I.

People from the project started packing up and leaving today. They will return to locations all over Canada. They will all be missed. But this means that Tim will finally return home to Vancouver.

My first impressions of Fort Nelson weren't correct. I ended up liking it here. The people were wonderful. The location is actually beautiful if you face the right direction. It makes me feel Canadian when I am up here. In Canada people come from all over the world and figure out how to get together and survive. Fort Nelson is like that. But maybe with more patience and kindness.

Cold, Colder, Coldest!

I am trying to pack for my winter trip to Fort Nelson which is so far below zero it is unimaginable! Instead of leaving my long johns, warm socks, sweaters and boots I made the stupid decision to drag them back to Vancouver. I need to carry up some dressier clothes to attend a company party. Black lace long johns perhaps? I will settle on layers of velvet. This means I have to wear lots and boil on the way to Vancouver Airport or freeze on the plane and unpack the warmies at the airport in the deep freeze of Fort Nelson.

I am proud of carrying my own bags but these ones are pretty heavy this time. The final visit is for at least a week with a further trip into Wells which is rumoured to have 3 or 4 feet of snow already. Things need to be packed that don't normally get packed because there is further trip of many miles through the frozen and icy roads. Dressing for extreme cold can mean survival if anything goes wrong. A good idea for comfort at the very least.

Leaving early in the morning and flying in a tiny, intimate plane. Hours in the air. And home to the Fort Nelson apartment and one of Tim's hot stews and diving into a bed piled with huge quilts. Dressed in long johns, t shirts and socks. I really am such a wuss when it comes to the cold.

I sleep like a log in the North. Completely conk out! Dream crazy inspiring dreams. Wake up completely lost and disoriented every time.

But the reward is the beauty surrounding Fort Nelson, lovely people and parties with food that Northern people make with treats of moose meat, northern char, incredible sweets and drink.They also make every other kind of delicious food.

Will get to buy the new babies real soft and beautiful baby moccassins and hopefully some tiny coats. I think there might even be a craft fair or two!

This is probably my last visit to Fort Nelson for a long time. Tim has thrived there. He is strong and feels a huge sense of accomplishment and has made wonderful new friends. The irony being that we will have a holiday meal with some lovely Newfoundlanders. Like so many family holiday meals but without my own Newfoundland Grandfather. I hope I remember at least one of the songs.

Will try and take a lot of Northern pictures. And share them as I can.

Jack And His Granny

It Is Now Official!!!

Jackson's Mommy and Daddy one week before Jackson's birth




Uncle Brendan

Brand new Mommy Breanne and doggy Gustopher

Aunty Megs having her bonding moment

Mr. Perfection Hurley

Mr. Hurley's new onesie.

Flowers for mommy

It is now official. My new name is Grandma Pat.

This was something I was not expecting as a step mother. I was prepared to be called anything Jackson wanted. I met him tonight for the first time. I was the first to hold him after we arrived. I melted , of course, and bonded immediately to this little tiny baby. He snuggled right in and nuzzled immediately. His mother and father trusted me to hold him. Even the skittish little dog, Gustopher, relaxed and snuggled into the crook of my arm. Me and baby and doggy in complete bliss!

We all passed him back and forth. Drowned his parents in presents. Quilts, chocolates, flowers, and Hurley and Oona onesies and food. Fed each other in a ritual that has always been there. Baby meets his extended family. Family immediately make their pledges of love and protection to him.

I overheard a radiant Megan introducing herself as his Aunty Megs. Brendan held him and experienced that wonderful flash of bonding to a tiny one. Stephen smiled every single time one of us held his boy and his beloved Breanne. Breanne exhibited confidence and competence unusual in a first time mother with a 3 day old infant. Still beautiful despite 3 sleepless nights.

I went to sign his card when I was leaving from Grandpa Tim and Pat. I explained to Steph why I did that. That I wanted to acknowledge his own mother and that Jackson could call me whatever he wanted. Lovely Steph looked me in the eye and explained he will call me Grandmother or Gramma or Granny. That he didn't give a damn about the politics and exclusion that came before. I was Jackson's Granny. And that is that! And is now who I am!

And Tim may be up North but he is phoning and e-mailing constantly. Saying unlikely gushy things like "My boy has just had a bath!" like Jackson was the only baby who had ever had a bath. He has become as silly as the rest of us. Maybe even sillier. Like a good Grandfather.

I Like Winter.

There are some things I appreciate more than others. I don't know where these lovely garments came from. Sent to me by a naughty friend. I would love to credit the work but I don't know who made them.

What Else Is There?

Jackson (Day 2)

What else is there to talk about?

Nothing right now except this little bundle of boy!

His face is now full and round. Rather serene. Traced by the genes that continue. Some recognizable. In the brow and the mouth. He is really big and has thick arms and legs. Not like my own children's delicate limbs. Big hands and feet. Big bones and broad open face like his Grandmother Sue. Tall like his Mother and Father. The Hurley brow, facial movements and response to touch.

A tiny human being. Becoming accustomed to touch, air, sound and light. Shocking really.

I wish Tim was home to see him. But he is up North working and won't come home until the 20th or so.

Kissing Ancestors

Once when drowning in the love of my Great Grandparents, I planted a big, fat kiss on my Great Grandfather Adam's mouth. My Great Gran Mabel Della Wells Adams (called Old Gran) laughed and rubbed my hair. We must have been cuddled up in the big Oregon rocker on the porch looking out across the prairie field of their ranch near Trochu, Alberta. They were both exotic beings to me. The ancient parents of my Granny Blanche.

She touched my cheek and said, "You have just kissed the mouth who kissed the mouth who kissed the mouth who kissed the mouth of President Adams. You have kissed history my dear!"

My first history lesson delivered in a kiss.

He lived to be 94. She lived to be 99. Blanche lived to be 99. My paternal family not including the Newfs. All the stories were there of births, deaths, trials, laughter, betrayal, love, life and survival skills. Explanations for bad behaviour. Humble pride for good.

Enough that when I was so sick with cancer and a killer infection and hovering between life and death the voices I heard were my Old Gran's telling me to just get up and try harder. That we just don't give up!

I wonder what it is like not to know your own people. Both the good and the bad. To come from a nuclear family that just consists of just two generations. How do you mark your own history? Where is your place? Whose lessons do you end up learning?

When I was little I couldn't draw a picture without a long line of people. It simply didn't make sense. Something I will never know. Neither will my children. Our life has been a living museum where history is simply one of those nourishments given like milk. I wonder what history we will all teach baby Jackson. What our kisses will mean. Or if we will live long enough for him remember at all.

Jackson shares none of my genes. He is Susan and Tim's grandson and she passed away three Decembers ago. Stephen is really missing her right now. I keep a little distance to recognise this.

But Jackson will get something from Mabel in my first kiss on his little head.

Jackson Decided To Arrive A Little Early!

Today Jackson Stephen Hurley arrived on this little planet. He decided to come early and in a hurry. He is a big strapping boy at nearly nine pounds. Broad shoulders, big head, long body. He has already done what good babies do. His APGAR Score is excellent. His poor Momma was in labour for only 1 1/2 hours and dealt with all that meant. So he exploded into the world. Shocking and humbling his jaded para-medic father.

I had a baby like that. In under 2 hours. Never under estimate the impact of short labour. But babies come however they come. Despite our planning. And then there they are!! Fully human. Hypnotic. Beyond amazing. Living their new life. Negotiating a place in this universe.

So Tim is now a grandfather. My step son Steph is a proud and protective father and Breanne is a beautiful mother. I am waiting to find out my role. Perhaps loving elder or ... this little boy will decide what to call me on his own.

I will get to meet him a little later. I can't wait!

So much for peace and quiet. Amazing new life wins out every time.

Pictures coming.

Quiet and Peace

The house is quiet once again. Everyone has gone home and back to their active lives.
Tim left early for work yesterday morning and flew back to Fort Nelson. I will meet him up there on December 9th.

This means I have 10 days to myself. Probably the last time until opening the gallery in Wells next May. I have spent majority of time alone for the last 1 1/2 years. I have a great family and a generous and understanding husband but I like my own company. Creative time happens whenever it needs too! Art messes allowed. No being quiet for people sleeping. Not one component of a project moving. No being told what to do at all. Friends whenever I want them here for as long as I want.

Immersion!

Somehow I still made art before all this. It was just more challenging.

All My Children

Family Row 1 Breanne, Vashti, Tim (Papa!)
Row 2 Steph, Brendan, Dane, Megan, Chris
missing but behind the camera me.


Pensive Vashti Four months pregnant


Breanna- one week to term

All of my children and their spouses were with me this weekend! First time in 10 years everyone has been together. Right now there are 10 of us, including 3 spouses and 1 girlfriend. In two weeks there will be 11 of us with Stephen's new baby. Chris's baby will be here by May.

Once again life changes!

And one of my stepson's spouses has decided I will be named Granny and has already hit me up for a childcare stint while she goes on a dig. She is an archaeologist. I promised to teach her kid how to spit and swear! Lessons that come in handy in this family. That and wall crawling!

What Works

I am suffering from an anti-climax thing today. Months of expectation, effort and putting myself out there has now worn thin enough to require a break.

Fantasy is a good place to start. After I replenish for a week. Maybe two. So time to climb into this cosy bed and hide with a good book. Hot baths. Hot, homemade soup. Vitamins. Big, long walks. Singing a song or two. Avoiding most human contact.

Dane is home from Winnipeg for another day. His friend Divya had her opening at ArtSpeak last night and it was so strong. It included a sky banner pulled through the air by a real plane, a neon light sculpture of Gandhi, and an enormous birthday like cake with an iced inscription that simply said "Kashmir". It will be abandoned to rot over the next month. The opening was full to the rafters with hip-hop musicians, art critics and artists. Fun.

Tim wants me back up in the North starting Dec. 7. There are holiday parties to go to with Northern friends before we leave Fort Nelson with the moving truck. Then an eleven hour drive to Wells with the stuff. Then 10 hours back home to Vancouver to meet new baby Hurley.

Tomorrow my house will be full of beautiful, pregnant young women. Our young women. Maybe one will let me draw her after everyone gets fed. Breanne has less than two weeks to go before her baby's birth. Vashti is now half way.

I don't know when life started moving this fast again. I just know solace, inspiration and comfort are required right now. Sometime after lunch...

Globes on the display cases

People signing up for next series of workshops

Full house all weekend

The Eastend Culture Crawl is now over for another year. I had an incredible time. This might have been my favourite year.

I had plenty of help with the set up. Helpers included Brendan, Megan, Ashley, Derek, Una and Ava. Vivian kept bringing me tea and lovely ginger biscuits. Celine and Scott brought work over from Numen Gallery to plump up my inventory. Tina patted my back when I started to succumb to pressure. Rob brought me home brewed coffee and a snack. Maggie dragged me out for late supper and beer. Rod, once again, brought me an extravagant gift of a projector and set up a date to teach me how to use it.

My studio was full of people from beginning to end of the show. Lots of positive feedback, commissions and sign-ups for courses and play dates.

I set up the studio more as an installation than a craft fair. I still sold work.

My friend/future collaborator Barry came over from Victoria and accompanied me on a tour of the Crawl on Sunday. Our long ago rhythm kicked in and his presence and lovely energy made the weekend perfect.

Eastside Culture Crawl Time

Pebble Samples- 2011

The Eastside Culture Crawl is this weekend and I am now setting up the studio for visitors.
There are more than 350 artists involved this year and it promises to be very exciting.

You can find me or a helper showing off my work and my studio at #13 1310 William Street in Vancouver, B.C. starting on Friday at 5:00 pm, Saturday between 11:00 am - 6:00 pm and Sunday
11:00am - 6:00pm.

Come look and explore my finished work, sample table and library, and inspirational materials.
Remember that this is a look and touch studio where I actually share information and ideas for making magic with your own work.

Little people are more than welcome.

Check out a little sampling of my work at http://www.eastsideculturecrawl.com/

One Week Left!

Unfinished Mushroom Form papier mache, cotton, scorched layers

Mushroom Forms Mostly Completed

Miniature Sample and experiment collection in display box


In process- mushroom form paper mache, cotton, layering and scorching

Moon Snail Pods- silicone, acrylic, sand

Continued Copper Dye Sheet in process and continual evolution

Mating Frenzy Butterflies -2011


Inspirational object: Dreaded and now dehydrated carnivorous plant. Nearly the death of me

The CRAWL is in another week.

Instead of throwing myself into a panic I plan on enjoying the set-up.

Work from two shows has just arrived in the studio and looks great.

MaryEllen Johnstone and I will work in there today and pull the first part in shape and organize the work space. My son Bren and I will hang things later in the week.

Am absorbed with paper and gut mache in the last week. And little take aways for the CRAWL.

The work stolen from the transition from the S.A.C. to the Artisan Gallery will be financially compensated. I understand the artists in the group passed the hat to pay for the loss. I am so very touched at the effort they made to cover this theft. It really restores my faith in the goodness of pe0ple!

Feedback from curators this week..."Raise Your Prices" All right then!!

PEACE

They didn't used to celebrate war on Rememberance Day. They celebrated hard earned peace.
There was no firing of guns to commemorate fallen soldiers. There was a ringing of bells to celebrate peace. PEACE is the ultimate goal and why the sacrifice was made in the first place.

Unearthed Unpacked.

S.A.C Show "Into The Woods" with the two missing globes and missing display dome.

Both the shows at the Britannia Beach Mining Museum and the Squamish Arts Council are now dismantled and unpacked. The efficient team had them down and packed into the truck by two o'clock. Wish set-up went that fast.

The mine became my second home this summer. The gallery space looked so empty when we were finished. It was a very worthwhile experience for me as an artist. Nothing was broken or stolen. Thousands of people visited and interacted with the show this summer. Children were very engage because I kept lots of the work at child eye level. there were tons of little hand prints on the cases. A little fact that thrilled me.

My experience at the SAC Building and Into the Woods was also mostly successful. I got to hang with some fabulous artists like Corrine Hunt and Martin Thorne. I loved visiting that tiny show packed with talent.

Unfortunately some of my work went missing in transition from one gallery to the next. Not sure if it was stolen or lost. I am upset about this but not naive. It happens now and then. One piece was not really for sale as it was an important personal piece regarding memories of my father.

I wish theft didn't happen but it does.

In full measure my experience with Squamish and Britannia Beach was well worth it. I'd encourage other artists to show there without hesitation. I will show in both places again.

Now time to seriously get ready for the CRAWL.

Ownership Day 4

Sigh.

Insurance companies are not flexible at all.

I am now surveying everyone in town to find out who insures them and for how much.

So far the quotes I am getting are double what other people are paying.

What does this have to do with textile art? It has lots to do with our ability to sell the work and not have overhead higher than profit. The people who get screwed in this are the artists!

So I called the Wells and District Chamber of Commerce and the Economic Development Officer and let them know. I will make a presentation to Council and see if they can help at all.
New business is required to keep little towns going.

Oh ...and don't mess with Patricia. My street teeth have come out.

Ownership Day 3

Man, I just love my insurance person Cathy Shaeffer from Integris. She is really spending her time thinking creatively regarding finding me an insurance provider.

I am asking for a few unusual things. Insuring a building that is in a remote town. The building is not occupied the whole year. It has a residence and a gallery. The gallery is only open seasonally.
For part of the year it will hold my equipment, my work, consigned work and things like cards, books etc. The inventory isn't large and the work isn't expensive. The public will be coming in the gallery from May 24th weekend to the end of October.

I have gone above and beyond providing security and building maintenance. The site has no debris or trees that can fall on it. The shed is secure. The building has new systems internally. It is spotless and in good order. I don't smoke and neither will anyone else in my sweet little building. The fire hall is 1 block away. I even have my own gold miner/biker named Grizz next door who will knock the block of anyone doing damage to my property. (Grizz also makes tea and gives hugs)

Wells is a little different than most towns security wise. There is very little crime there. One road goes into town and the same road goes out. People there are used to keeping track. The joke in town is that a kid ever went missing or something big was stolen the poor perp would be met by the time they left Jack of Clubs Lake. Then they would be easy to find in the lake!

The trees have eyes in Wells. Prospectors, loggers, road crews and ranchers are connected to the town by a radio and phone system. Almost everyone in town is involved in the Volunteer Fire Department. There is a tiny RCMP Detachment and the BC Ambulance Service. It is a very safe town.

What is the problem? I thought I could insure it for half the year as a residence and seasonal business.

It is really worth having some kind of business plan when you are an artist. Who'd a thunk it?
So far I have been able to list my inventory of work. my library and my equipment. I am able to tell them the approx value of consigned work. I am even able to give them an approximation of the number of expected guests. I kept track last time.

If they want I can tell them what my most populars items are, where most of my customers come from, and what they had for lunch the day they visited. I keep track.

Insurance is a small problem that will be solved. It reminds me of the importance of statistics even when on such a small scale. Kathy and I will beat this little challenge!

Ownership Day 2

My little orange and blue gallery in the North iced with frost. The cairn is where Fred Wells is buried. He is supposed to be one of my relatives.


Tim has informed me he isn't coming home after all. Not sure when.
Something told me he wasn't. He has a tendency to make himself very valuable.

I just crawled back into bed and hid from the cold rain. Eventually I got up and decided to try to organize my Wells insurance again. It has become sticky because I am not in the Wells house until summer.

Typical of Wells...Dennis from Town Maintenance called me from his house at dinner. "Trish. There is frost everywhere and I can't turn off the water to your house. I can't really find it.".

I negotiated the best I could. I don't know where the town hides the water pipes. Dennis told me how to keep the water intake warm. I told him I could call Mike (my caretaker) and that he might be able to help. Dennis will try again tomorrow.

Bless thoughtful Dennis!

I have now owned the house for only one day.

Tim suggested I just go up there and live in it. He isn't coming home so that might not be a bad idea at all. After the CRAWL. The hardy ones are up there now. I am sure I could survive just fine. I could get lots of work done. But my plan was to be there in Summer.

I have more tests in the next few weeks. I will dust off my long johns and go up if the results are okay.

Something will figure itself out. Even disappointment.

Keys

I picked up the keys and all the paper work today for my new house and gallery. It doesn't have a name yet. But I can open the doors when I finally get up to Wells.

I did it!!!!!!!!!

Earthy

Peeling mine door




One of my cases for the miniature work.




Roof Rust


Peeling paint



Mine Messages

Metal Cocoons

Biotite Snake pyro-textile

Encrustation

Rust and Connectors
Part of the Unearthed show with some of the rust dyed and intentionally deteriorating cloth
Surfaces


Crust and rust

My copper patination develops

Rust on tank

Window crack

Inside the mine with mine photographs

Windows

In the mine building

Stairway to Heaven Britannia Beach Mine
Inside the large buildings in the mine

Grill from one of the mine vehicles

Part of the Unearthed Show with the unlit cases

Marshall the Miner in full Hallowe'en Gear

Adorable Hallowe'en Mine Bunny.

What a wonderful day! Bright, a little windy and chilly.

Didn't start out that way though.

I woke up late only to discover that hideous brown water was pouring from all my taps and the shower and toilet. Tim convinced me by phone to run all the taps to see if the water would clear.
It didn't until it had completely made the tub disgusting. I had to leave the house in 15 minutes with no way for a nice shower. I made myself as decent as possible using ice cold water when the tap finally cleared. Certainly glad I still had some water in the kettle to brush my teeth.

Scott and Celine picked me up for our inspiration date. Celine only arrived home from Indonesia yesterday and decided to come along too. We had breakfast of Jamaican Patties, Chai, and turkey baguettes and packed into the car for a drive to Britannia Beach and Squamish.

The sun was shining on the sea all the way from Vancouver to the Mine.

We decided to do a mine tour and ride the train underground. Marshall, the miner and guide, recognized me and introduced me to the other riders which took me completely off guard. He told everyone to go into my show. So nice. He has let me crawl around in there a few times now and get inspired. He does such a good tour of the mine because he worked as a miner there for years.

Scott crawled into all the nooks and corners he could find. His photographs must be exciting.

We went into see the show. I rely on these two to give me appropriate and honest feedback. Celine is a wonderful curator and has a strong relationship too and knowledge of my work.
Unfortunately the Museum has decided to save power and cut the illumination to my cases. They are trying to save money but... I know it is an unconventional space. It isn't really an art gallery but a museum. It has been a thrill to show in the space which is filled with old mine machines and equipment. Thousands of people saw the show through the summer and fall. Many more than any gallery would have done.

The cases, however, have been designed to have light to enhance the work. Celine pointed out that the cases really needed the light.

I am pleased that the work has been respected other wise and cared for. Thrilled that the staff have been so supportive and the volunteers are exceptional. I love the huge banners Krisztina made for me and the sandwich board is gorgeous. All the physical help with hanging the show.

It gets dismantled next week. I am really going to miss visiting it there. I could move right into the tunnels.

Scot, Celine an I had lunch at Gallelio's, a little coffee place on the highway at Britannia Beach, and laughed and for hours.

I got home to prepare the house for Hallowe'en.

Tomorrow I get the keys and to the new house and gallery. Tim gave it to me as a gift. And he is finally coming home!!!

Happy Hallowe'en!