Doppelganger

A friend of mine from the '80s called me last weekend. "I just saw your doppelganger eating lunch in Loring Park," he said.

"Interesting," I said.

"I tried to talk to her but she ran away."

"Uh huh," I said.

"It was your doppelganger, right? It wasn't you?"

"No, it wasn't me."

"Because if it was you and you ran away I'd be really pissed."

"It wasn't me," I said.

The next day I was clothes-shopping with a friend of mine from work and she said "When I was at the downtown library I saw your doppelganger walking out of a bathroom. She looked exactly like you except she had blonde hair."

"Interesting," I said.

A couple of days later I ran into one of my ex-boyfriends at Whole Foods.

"Nancy," he said. "Yesterday I saw your doppelganger working at a coffeehouse on Grand Avenue."

"Really?" I said.

"She looked exactly like you except taller and younger."

"Which coffeehouse? I want to go see her."

"Oh, she wasn't working at the coffeehouse. She was a customer working on her laptop."

In the next few days my doppelganger was sighted driving a MINI Cooper near Lake of the Isles, dancing at Lee's liquor Lounge, buying milk in Chanhassen, starring in a 1970's situation comedy, and eating Swedish meatballs at Ikea.

My doppelganger sure is one gal about town.

Not

One of my not-boyfriends just told me I'm not a good listener.

He could be right. I might not be a good listener.

It's hard to be a good listener when your mind reverberates like a room full of radios.

A Question of Perception

I was in the checkout line at a grocery store today and the man standing behind me said, "Hi. How is your day going?"

"Fine," I said. "How is your day going?"

"Horrible," he said. "I have to work tonight and I hate my job. It's the most boring job in the world." 

"Sorry to hear it," I said.

 "Do you know how boring my job is?" he said.

"No," I said.

"My job is as boring as watching paint dry," he said.

"I love my job," I said. "It's the most exciting thing in the world I can think of to do."

"What do you do for a job?" he said.

"I watch paint dry," I said.

Detail from Self-portrait with a Model

Everything is Moving Toward Osseo

Today was a good day for riding the bus. The sun was streaming in the windows like melted butter. Everyone on the bus was drenched in the stuff. We looked like a bunch of human-shaped pancakes.

The pancake across the aisle from me said. "What have you got in your bag?"

"Filberts," I said.

"Snacks?" the pancake said. 

"No, paint brushes," I said.  I pulled a Robert Simmons Signet 42 filbert from my bag and displayed it to her. "Robert Simmons is my favorite. I haven't had a lot of luck with Winsor Newton."

"I haven't had much luck with men either," the pancake said. "You're lucky to have this Robert."

Winter

Everybody's afraid of the approaching winter this year, even crusty old Minnesota types. Last winter was downright apocalyptic in its magnitude and duration. I personally hate winter but always try to find ways to make the best of it.

Self-portrait as Venus, Goddess of Love, 2007, oil on canvas, 30" x 40"

Ask Me if I'm a Tree

Q: Are you a tree?

A: No.

Ask Me if I'm a Tree, 2001, graphite on wood, 21-3/4" x 23-1/2"