A few weeks ago, with my hair still matted up from sleeping, in running tights and an enormous men’s Patagonia pullover, while walking the dogs past the museum, I ran into George on the front lawn, the curator and our neighbor. We were talking about this and that as I self-conciously shoved my fingers in the back of my hair to make it look less insane when he asked me to speak today at art talk—which I immediately said yes to, feeling a little surprised and underqualified. I decided last night around 1 am on the topics that might be slightly interesting to the general public, and I felt pretty prepared when I went in there, so it was actually a whole lot of fun.
I was so surprised by how many folks came. I find that talking to more people is much easier than talking to a very small group.
And after my 1 hour talk in high heels, my feet died. Permanently. I may never wear heels again. I don’t know how you gals who wear them to work every day still have toes!