One evening, not long after we bought our house in 1998, I was home alone when I noticed a car slow down, then stop out front.  From my bedroom window I could see two men sitting in the front seat, looking up at my house.

They pulled away, but a few minutes later they were back.  This went on a few times…them slowing, then stopping in front of the house, then pulling away, only to return again.

As dark approached, I called my husband and asked him to hurry home.  Then I called my sister-in-law, who lived nearby.  Right after I hung up with her, I stood frozen in the dark corner of my living room as I saw one of the men peeking in the window just a few feet from where I was standing.

My first call was to the police (the man was caught and arrested at the end of my street) and my second call was to my husband to tell him that I wanted a dog.  Like, now.

A month later we went to look at a litter of Labradors.  I didn’t pick out the snugly pup or the one who was covering me with kisses.  I chose the dog who was pulling my purse across the driveway.

Here’s a hint…when choosing a puppy, the one who pulls your purse across the driveway may also turn out to be the one who drags a 25 lb., frozen turkey out of the kitchen sink and tears it to shreds that you find all over your house.

She may be the one who gets the trash can off the kitchen counter and spreads coffee grounds and dirty diapers in every room.

She could be the dog that you refer to as, “The Shark” because she eats everything in sight, including the entire box of doughnuts belonging to the construction workers down the street, a 12 inch tall, solid-chocolate bunny, a breast pad, and a ham shank that makes her leave piles of diarrhea and vomit all over the house. 

Also, that mess might just be discovered on your 30th birthday AND be smelled all the way from your garage.  Your detached garage.

Did I mention that she may jump the fence and run away frequently too?  So, you’ll have that going for you.

But, she might also be the dog who fiercely protects you and viciously barks at anyone who even looks at your yard.  She could be the one thing that makes you feel safe in your own home, because you know she wouldn’t let anyone hurt you.

She may be the most loyal partner you could ask for, but once you have a baby she leaves your side to go lay under the crib. 

She could be one of the best dogs you ever have.

But damn, it’s going to hurt your heart bad when she gets old.

Fair warning.

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A few nights ago, I had a dream that I hopped on a plane back to New York. I had my kids in tow and after our arrival in the city, we ended up in a cavernous ballroom with an ornamental ceiling and chandeliers above our heads. The room was empty, with one exception.

On the floor was a long piece of paper, plain white, roughly the width of a roll of wrapping paper. It extended about 10 feet and at the foot of it was a set of brushes and a painter’s palette. Someone, a faceless someone, told us to begin painting.

At first, my kids and I stared at one another and shrugged our shoulders because we had no idea what to put on our blank canvas. When we finally began to paint, we crafted our art separately from one another. A swoosh here, a dab there, we mixed colors and techniques, blending into each other effortlessly, yet creating our own unique pieces.

We were there for quite a while and though we had worked as three individuals, we stood to find that, together, we had painted a beautiful picture. A picture that looked just like the one I’m standing next to here…

This is the artwork that was inspired by my post for the BlogHer Voices of the Year Art Gala and Auction. My friend, Melisa, snapped the above picture before I got dressed up for the evening (because, right now my friend Jill is all, “She wore jeans?”) and just seconds prior to me crying so hard that my nose turned bright red.

I cried because the photo-art was, by complete chance assignment, by my friend Mishi. I cried because my post title was “Into the Light” and she beautifully captured its essence. I cried because she incorporated things that make me feel joy, things that feed my spirit, and things that mean something to me (you can see the fact that I love the sun and trees by looking at my header, which was created by the talented Courtney from Judith Shakes Designs).

I love that creativity can inspire others to be creative. I love that, together, Mishi, Courtney and I have fed off of each other. The reason that I began blogging is because I was searching for an outlet to unleash my own creativity.

The fact that it has led to fueling my dreams is simply a bonus.

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With my trip to New York wrapped up, I have had a full day to reflect on the events of BlogHer’10.

The experience, for me, was not about the venue or the sponsors. It’s not about the parties either (though I’m not going to lie, Mama Pop knows how to throw one down).

BlogHer conferences are about learning from each other, about our work, our craft and about our overall awesomeness as a community. We. Are. Awesome.

Of course, some of us are more awesome than others. There are true artists in our midst. People who ooze creativity and whose presence in a room makes the air vibrate and increases our collective intelligence because they actually make us think. And, feel. And, live.

One of those artists is Karen Walrond. She is a genius. She exudes brilliance and I feel like I am more aware of everything since I met her. Not to mention that what she said here, made me cry in all kinds of good ways.

I was so fortunate to get my own personal photo shoot on the streets of New York with Karen behind the lens. I had been in the city for almost two days before we met and had been dealing with a massive headache that would not go away. I was tense, nervous and the stress of the previous two weeks was inside my brain trying to pound its way out.

After spending time with Karen, though? My headache went away, the tension was gone and I finally breathed. She was, quite literally, the cure for what ailed me.

Thank you, Karen, for more than just this photograph. Thank you for making me feel joyous and alive. Thank you for the gift of knowing you.

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