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So… since there was no makeup artist today, Max was instructed to arrive on set “fresh faced- with mascara, pink lipstick, and pink blush” for her role as Cheerleader #3.

As usual, we were running late. I checked my lipsticks, I had my usual Burt’s Bees Cocoa lip shimmer. Too neutral. I had a deep, dark red. Not an option. And a really sassy wine color that I reserve for a night out on the town. (Of course it’s barely used!) Way too dark anyway.

Just about to panic, I remembered something… I had my Nano’s lipstick. I brought it with me from Texas. She kept her lipstick close to her, was even known to carry it in her bra, so I held on to it, unable to watch it get thrown out. I grabbed it out of the little box I had it in and we took off.

Of course, Nano’s Revlon Matte “Stormy Pink” was the perfect shade of pink! We were giggling as I applied it to Maxey’s lips and rubbed it on her cheeks. She got into her costume, then hair, and waited to be called. It felt like Nano spent the day with us. Like she was part of our silly, fun, crazy day. And late tonight, while we were on the train heading home, I could still see traces of her all over my daughter’s face. Goodnight and love to all.

There’s a place out there that waits for me, for it knows I’m coming.

Past this gorgeous fall, past coming winter and spring. Summer. The promise of warmth. There’s a place. My favorite place. On the banks of the San Marcos. After a silent, solitary swim. In stillness… where I am River Buddha.

Water running, sun shining, and things growing. River within, river without. Where all that is, was, and ever will be lives. Where fear isn’t, wasn’t, and never will be, love waits, and knows, and hums a summer song.

God bless the artist. God bless the muse.

I paused to capture this moment, of someone capturing a moment:

I find such beauty in human beings being.

Who will you be today?

We set out around 11 am.

It was the perfect day for driving Texas backroads…

From Wimberley we took Ranch Road 12 to Texas Hwy 32, then Ledgerock Road to Mount Sharp Road, then Mount Gainor Road to Creek Road. Such an earthy and therapeutic little drive. The most beautiful land stretched out on all sides, blue skies and tangled oaks giving way to pretty little creeks.

A half-hour later, we arrived at our destination. Tucked away, just outside of Dripping Springs, is a little gem…

Welcome to Tillie’s…

The turquoise doors make promises that the chef intends to keep…

Giving way to the grand dining room where the magic happens…

We started with cocktails: a Cosmo and a signature drink called La Vida Dorada, “the golden life.” Next came the Spicy Fried Brussels Sprouts. They are a must. Deep, rich flavors of chili jam and orange supreme. Everything else was a blur of roasted cauliflower and carrots with smoky eggplant puree and mixed local lettuce salad, while two old friends caught up amid delighted giggles, feeling like we were the only two people on planet Earth. We finished with the best sorbet that I have ever tasted. Mango-Lime. Absolutely dreamy.

Such a lovely summer day…

Take the backroads and get lost in the moment with your partner in crime. You’ll be glad you did.

46 arrived. It was rough. You see, I was born on my Nano’s 38th birthday. Sharing my day with her is all I’ve ever known.

My Nano was a great lady. A bright light. No shadows. None.

She had a heart of gold. No one ever went without on her watch. She was a fashion icon who embraced the styles of every decade, and slayed them. She carried her lipstick in her bra, my angel in blue eyeshadow, the picture of dignity and grace all the while. Oh, yeah, and she cussed like a sailor! She taught me what love looks like and how absolutely gorgeous flaws can be.

She passed over into what is next, this past October. I never realized how much of my identity was intertwined with hers until I woke up on July 10th this year, alone. I’ve been still and quiet, just considering. Grieving down deep in my soul.

Finally love crept in. You know how it does when it saves you. But it wasn’t a prince on a horse. It was three loud girls in a bar. And a soft word from my son. Then the realization that my entire life has been a love story…

I have loved and been loved deeply since the moment I entered the atmosphere. My love story hasn’t been a fairy tale. It’s been more like a cross between a telenovela and a slapstick comedy, but it’s been anything but boring.

I have absolutely no regrets when it comes to love! Only the hope that the next 46 years are just as memorable and beautiful as the first.

Hugs and kisses to my tribe.

May we love with all that we are.

And may all know us by our light…

It feels good sitting here…

45. Waiting for class to start. An entire hour early. Desks going every which way. The old lady, you know the one. She asks too many questions, and blows the curve because she makes a 100 on every test. That’s me right now.

When I look back at the road behind me, I can’t help but smile. It’s been such a beautiful journey so far. I have no regrets. But it’s time to tie up loose ends. So here I am, Texas State University. I drove through thirteen states in 4 days to make it to this summer class. Proving that it’s never too late and daring to break a certain archaic truth into a billion pieces…

For I have only gotten better with age.

And once again, I am reminded that the greatest gift of higher education lies not in the accumulation of facts and figures, but instead within the deeper understanding of the most beautiful and complex subject one will ever know… oneself.

Texas summer calls with sweet promises. Old friends, loose ends, and the great loves of my life, I’m headed your way. We’ll share day dreams, and night swims, our deepest, darkest secrets, and love. Oh, how we’ll love ’til it’s time to go again.

Spinach, parsley, green apple, pear, cucumber, lemon, and ginger. That’s my juice. The perfect combination of flavors coming together to form a heavenly green ginger lemonade. My latest addiction.

It’s a good thing juice bars are so popular here in New York City. I can always find one around when I need a little pick-me-up. Like the other day, I was leaving the Seaport and making my way home. Instead of racing everyone to the train, I decided I would indulge my ever-present juice craving and just take my time.

Eyes peeled, scanning the restaurants and bars that I passed, I finally spotted it. This one was called Juice Generation. I reached for the door and paused to read the message on the glass. All of a sudden, the juice was forgotten as I stood there enamored with the greeting I received:

My heart fluttered, and my soul stirred. There is such power in a few simple words. At once, I was struck by a thought: What if these words were posted everywhere?

What if they were posted on our churches, mosques and synagogues, on our homes, our bars and restaurants, our schools, our community centers? What if they were posted on our borders? What if we forgot every divisive thing that we have ever been taught?

What if we posted these words on our hearts?

Sometimes the greatest teachers are standing right next to us…

For they inspire and grant permission for greatness without saying a word…

I took a walk downtown to say goodbye while the whole town slept…

The past six months had been the stuff that dreams are made of. Somehow, someway, the “if I could go back” met me where I was standing and I found myself back in my hometown with my fourteen-year-old daughter.

Six months of Boyd, Texas healed me. Heavy-hearted, I stood there in the road that night. Forty-five years old and I was leaving home again. Only this time it was different. That road heading out of town looked so much different at forty-five than it had at seventeen. Because I know now how way leads on to way and how those we love may not be there when we make it back around again.

Even so, I couldn’t stay…

And that’s what made the goodbye so magical. There were a thousand things said to my tiny Texas town that night. A thousand prayers that went up. I could feel where I come from in my bones. And I could feel the spirits, past and present, urging me on…

The road from there to here runs through my heart. Like every road I’ve ever traveled, my experiences are etched upon me. Sunsets. Mountains. There is such poetry on the road. I discovered what is purple mountain majesty. I saw it, a living, breathing beautiful moment in time, and it took my breath away. I saw valleys, with little pockets of civilization, where souls I will never know (and yet souls I feel I have always known) are born, live, and finally cross over into what is next. In passing, I bless their time here. Wishing them well along life’s way.

We arrived on a Friday, February 8th, at rush hour. My love met me on the street, arms outstretched, warm and alive. I had done it. I had gone back, in order to go forward, reconciling with the past. There is power in going back. And magic where childhood waits. There is power in remembering.

Fifteen-year-old eyes upon me, watching my every move. Forty-five-year-old eyes upon her. She will be better for all this, I know. She will never be afraid to jump.

“Welcome to New York.” With those words an old dream came true while the promise of the future floated about me. The spirits past and present smiled. I settled into the city’s embrace, a grown woman ready for the world, while the child within me, resilient, patient, and brave, who first dared to dream the dream, wept…