My ex used to warn me that I should be careful of what I wished for. Our Thanksgiving holidays were family food filled events that were the culmination of days of chaos, guts and water. Literally. We processed turkeys for the holidays and after 4-5 days straight of the herculean task, my parents or my in-laws would be kind enough to serve us dinner as we collapsed in their arms. We'd bundle up in turtle necks and boots and, if the weather cooperated, go for a walk between dinner and desert. Who knew that a few short years later I would be sleeveless in Miami without a relative or a turkey in sight!
I had options, and yet, leading up to the holiday I just wanted, as always, to be alone. The idea of waking alone, lingering over my breakfast, spending the day in my studio and perhaps seeing some friends for cocktails was enough to be called "a great time". I wanted to sleep. In the studio today, I had a hard time letting go to the nostalgia, the wistful memories, and the need to be hugged, so I made this sign/painting for the ArtHouse.