Leif, Leif and Lumen

Little Leif turned three on May 23, 1947. She looks very serious here, not too happy about having her picture taken. Or maybe her life has become more serious of late. Her father had left not long before, never to live with his wife, Agnes, and their four children again. From here on out, it is up to Leif's courageous mother, to raise her children and imbue them with whatever it would take to live fulfilling lives. 

Yes, I did have a birthday last week, and I celebrated with friends and family. My sister, as usual, did everything she could and more to make my birthday picnic special. Even to the extent of bringing the makings for ice cream sundaes in an ice-filled cooler to the park. All for her little sister, Leif. Thank you, dearest Mary...

This week I am moving toward my New Orleans performance, and I feel as serious as little Leif Looks in the picture. Am I really going to get up in front of an audience and speak and dance and share whoever it is that I have become? The days leading up to performances are always difficult. I do not feel brave. I feel small and serious and alone. 

This is why I am posting an extra of Lumen, taken on my cell phone when we went to the beach yesterday evening. The wind was up, and the little dog was excited and very determined to face the wind and the waves that splashed the rocks. If he hadn't been leashed, he would have leaped with joy and merged with the wild beauty of the evening. I only pray that the same fierce desire to merge imbues my coming performance.