K.'s.After hanging up the phone my wife told me to give her an hour an come to bed. I could hear her drawing a bath and going through her dresser and ...loset. I passed the hour in nervous anticipation but I also wondered it would be lame. When I entered our bedroom she had a single candle lit. She told me to undress and led me to the bed. The pillows were neatly stacked against the headboard so I was half lying half sitting up. As my eyes adjusted to the single candle light I could see she had. Sure, as an artist I’m a little loopy as a rule. Sure I hop around to my oldies records like a six year old on a sugar high, sure it’s my craziness that fuels my need to paint- but it’s the actual act of painting that keeps me sane. It’s a paradox for sure. But painting is my meditation. I don’t know where I’d be without it. At this point, you’re probably wondering,- Nicole, what is your book about anyway? You’ve already told us it wasn’t about your relationship with your mother, and it isn’t. More

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