From the theater days.

This is the 1991 set of the Marietta College’s theatrical production of The Foreigner. I was the sultry looking girl being squeezed by the fellow on the couch. I can’t tell you how many happy memories I have of this time in my life.

I’ve been unbelievably blog-negligent.  But since I’m in the process of moving our household and working on scads of other projects, my poor little RebeccaOfTomorrow blog has fallen by the wayside.

So, instead of letting it get moldy and stale, I thought I’d go with easy blog posts for the time being.  I’m going to try to post something light and fun and quick, at least three times a week.  I’ll probably go with photos of something meaningful to me, but I might also link to some other people’s writings that speak to me.  If any of you have anything you’d like me to re-post, please let me know!

Today I’m going with a photo from my theater days.  I hope you enjoy it.  I love how so many of these people are still in touch with me, mostly via Facebook.  I miss one of them terribly, however.  We all miss you, Brett.  It’s a “frog-strangler” down here on Earth without you.

~Thanks!

Antici. . .pation of Art

(Edward Hopper, Nighthawks, 1942)

When were you introduced to your favorite painting?

For me, it was in 1990, first semester, freshman year of college.  Yes, that dates me.  Of course, I was only five years old when I started college, so it doesn’t date me overmuch .

I was in Art Appreciation, and this course was a wonderful one for me.  Yes, it was 8:00 a.m.  Yes, it was a little hard to stay awake in a warm and darkened auditorium looking up at the art projected up on the screen.  Yes, many of my peers thought it was a waste of time.  But I, for one, did not.  I have always loved art.  I love looking at it, studying it, as well as creating it myself.

I fell instantly in love, as did a lot of college students, with Edward Hopper’s famous painting, Nighthawks. 

We had to write a research paper on a piece of art and artist of our choosing for that class, and I asked the professor if I could write a short story based on the painting instead.  He was intrigued.  He agreed.  I made an A-.

Want to read it?  Want to read this deliciously (slightly embarrassing) youthful piece of creative writing  from when I was barely 18 . . . I mean 5 . . . years old?

Well then, come back tomorrow for it.

And come back the rest of the week for more on the artist and painting, and the so many, various parodies and homages to Nighthawks.

Thanks!