Fiorella is running late. Not only did she spend way too much time on trying to get her doctor appointments straightened out--in other words, waiting on the phone forever--but she also hauled out two more file drawers and put their contents (love stories) in their proper places, then started thinking about the horrible situation in Ukraine and how frustrated she was that she was unable to help in any way. But there WAS, she realized. Not directly, of course--more like propaganda, which Fio, in her own way, is quite good at it--ART.
Thus several hours went down with her racing around the studio and her room, searching for just the right junk paper to create sunflowers, then roaring into action. As of now, there are nine paper sunflowers Scotch-taped to the inside of the big window out front, where everyone will see them as they walk/drive by. If Fiorella cannot do anything else, she can remind people of the atrocities that are taking place and that horrible things could happen here if they are not vigilant.
Switching subjects, your girl is pleased to report that her piano practice is paying off. Day by day, her fingers are taking over from her eyes.
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