This was a landmark day for me. Sue Silverstein wrote her first weekly column for my blog. I’m thrilled she will be a columnist each week, writing about her art, her students, and her unique ideas about teaching and working from the donations she always gets from the Army Of Good. This was a brilliant idea of hers. She is revolutionizing the teaching of art in schools.

Sue is the first writer other than Maria to have a column on my blog; I couldn’t be happier.

I was also thrilled by the Army of Good’s response to the Cambridge Food Pantry and the Children’s Food Drive this week, which ends today and tomorrow. I’m grateful and proud. We sent much-needed food and hoped to continue this good work. Nothing makes me happier than helping feed children whose families are struggling.

For me, that is what it means to be an American, not anger, hatred, and cruelty.

I sat down today with beautiful things whose names I misspelled. I thought it would make a glorious parade, and I was right. Two things seemed to provoke a min-firestone of cruel and foolish messages; they deserved a parade, including Zip, one of the more controversial cats in my life, and in edgy and often hostile America. What could be better than a March Of The Misspelled? See you tomorrow; I hope you enjoy the pictures. I loved making them.

I love Calla’s and, now, White Roses. They are the flower of good and compassion.

I’m happy to explore the idea of flowers as sculptures in their way. I see them in that way.

Thanks for the good words many of you are sending me. It’s not the fault of the flowers or the cat.
I look forward to seeing you tomorrow.

This is a flower of sorrow, I think.

This is a flower of grace to me, which most Calla Lily’s are.

This is a meditation flower, a deep well.

This is a community of flowers talking to one another.

To me, this is a sculpture, as many flowers are. I’m always looking for that feeling.

Zip is a famous cat because I often confused his name with my dog Bud’s. This outraged many people, who decided I either had Dementia or was just evil. It was good for me. I learned a lot about myself, my Dyslexia, my age, my life, and my humanity beyond my pretty little farm.

It taught me to respect myself, not the opinions of strangers. It was a wakeup in some ways.

I called him Zud just to be safe. He didn’t seem to mind.

I had a tuna fish sandwich for lunch and saved some for Zip for our afternoon meeting. He was pretty happy.