Women in the rain

My friend Janice, a wonderful ceramic artist who has taught at a progressive elementary school for thirty years, is retiring this week. Last night at 6PM, four of us gathered at our grassy tree-circled spot in Central Park to celebrate and toast her. Our children were in the same class as Janice's daughter. She was their art teacher through eighth grade, and during those years we became chosen family. Last evening, the sky was glowering and rain threatened, and eventually fell, but we gathered with our folding chairs anyway, sitting under the thick canopy of a Norway maple and holding umbrellas above our heads during the heaviest downpour. One of our number is still very covid cautious, and doesn't yet feel safe gathering indoors, hence our choice to gather in the park. We felt very adventurous and decidedly bohemian, sipping wine, noshing on French bread and soft cheeses, grapes and apples and peaches kissed by rain, and the most amazing quinoa, red cabbage, and corn salad one of us made (not me). Janice even brought flowers that she placed artfully in a Bustelo coffee can, capping off the mood. Heartfelt congratulations, dear Janice, on all your years of making a living while also obeying the imperative to make art. Now you can find that one-woman studio you've always dreamed of opening, and create your exquisite sculptures and ceramic pieces all day long.