Sydney starts preschool on Monday.  I'm excited.  I think she's going to love it.  
  Went outside and looked at the flowers.  What I thought was chives now has purple flowers on it, so I'm through guessing what it is I have growing back there.  But it's cool.  
  Haven't started painting yet, and already my mind is painting.  Walking around with images.  Not memories so much as memories of a feeling, and images of what that would look like.  It'll be interesting to paint this time.  It reminds me of poetry, when I'm in a writing mood and all day I'm walking around writing fragments of poems in the back of my mind.  Remember talking to another writer who used to get so caught up in fiction writing that occasionally she would go through the day mentally adding, "she said" and so forth to the dialogues around her.  Kind of funny.  So it's kind of amazing to me.  I'm not painting, but intending to paint, and somehow I'm internally adapting to that already.  Very cool.  Part of you changes just with the idea of doing something.  Amazing.