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The return, thus far, is going more smoothly than the venture out. For one thing, this is perhaps the first time that I’ve traveled at entirely reasonable hours — neither getting up well before dawn nor getting in after my usual bedtime — in years. I’m awake and mostly well-rested.

Mostly. This was not a restful jaunt home, alas. Marcus’s opening last night was fabulous, if attended by a very odd segment of the population. The best part, aside from hanging out with him a bit, was that I bought a big-ass painting, which you can find on his website via the “paintings” link — the image on the resulting page that provides the link to “free-hanging canvases” (and the first image once you follow that link) is my new baby: Un travail sur la matière. The painting itself will remain in the gallery until the show comes down in early July. Once it arrives, and is hung, I’ll have to take a new round of condo pictures, to update my own gallery.

Anyhow, that was the fun part of the trip. Less fun was that my mother had some pretty intense surgery the day after I arrived — really intense, leaving her in enormous pain, but not so intense that it wasn’t done at a freaking ambulatory surgery center rather than in the hospital. There was absolutely nothing ambulatory about her condition, an hour and a half after being stitched up, when they rolled her back out to the car and waved goodbye. I’ve accordingly spent the last three days in various aspects of caring for her, some of them icky, some of them alarmingly intimate, some of them back-breaking. The result was both that I spent less time with Marcus than I’d hoped, and that I’m now quite wrung-out, and need a bit of rest. I foresee a day tomorrow of sleeping-in, going to the gym, and lying around reading novels.

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