Wildflowers in My Hair

1967. Babysitting. Canoe Brook Parkway, Summit, NJ.

What I don't remember:
• who the family was,
• who the kids were,
• how I knew them, or
• how I landed the babysitting job.


What I do remember:
• modern architecture and furnishings,
• 50¢ per hour,
• a stereo turntable, and
• Judy Collins's Wildflowers record album.

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Six or seven weeks ago, I sat in the Cabot Theater in Beverly, MA, as part of a full-to-capacity audience whose average age was roughly 67 and who may or may not have worn flowers in their hair and smoked a little weed during the "Summer of Love" in '67—all of us gathered fifty years down the road from the Summer of Love on a cold almost-winter night while Judy Collins offered up a transcendent concert that transported us with her timeless voice right back to our youth.

There is a whole lotta magic in this world.

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I dipped into a different then and now today. Picked up another one of the free canvases I acquired over the summer and started noodling with it.

Back in the then of last summer the canvas looked like this:

free canvas #3, as picked up from a neighbor's collection of pass-alongs

Now, I've performed just the littlest bit of black magic (ha ha!) by covering the whole surface with black interior semi-gloss enamel latex house paint and letting myself indulge in free play with various paints, brushes, texture sheets, crayons, and mark-making tools—roughing up this canvas for who knows what next.

Amusingly, the black background, with these colors on it, evokes strong sensory memories of the fabric of a sassy swishy dress I wore in 1967!

free canvas #3
18x24"
work in progress