January 31, 2013


When I was in college I made the prerequisite trip to Florida for spring break. We women stayed at a motel we thought was really 'groovy' that had a pool... and guys. Sun, Coppertone, fun. Every morning the hotel owner would put out a pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice that she picked from the trees in her backyard. Heavenly. To this day I always hope that when I drink my morning glass of OJ it will taste and smell and look like that. It doesn't. It's just "fresh" from the carton. And the motel we stayed at is now a highway. No more orange trees. Only memories.

Watercolor, 4x6, $25.

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