The time is 5:45 AM and I am waking in the dark and slowly heading for the closet to retrieve my striped fuzzy bathrobe. The parquet floors are cold and I head for the light switch to illuminate the room and search under the bed for my cozy bedroom slippers. As I head down the stairs one step at a time (listening with dismay at my creaking knees and ankles) I have one thought in mind...need coffee. My nose leads the way to the kitchen where I mumble a curt "morning" to Otis my bunny, who having had his breakfast of 5 blueberries, is hopping around the dimly lit kitchen. My husband is already out on his morning bike ride and I shudder to think of him in the cold and dark. I reach for a coffee mug and head to the counter where our proud "grind and brew" coffee pot sits perched on the counter. I grab the handle which feels very heavy at this ungodly time of the day and pour my fill. I then retreat to the TV room to see what the day's weather will be and half listen to the NY news, as I sip my coffee. So far, all is within the routine. However, on my next trip to the kitchen I just happen to push the coffee maker back towards the wall and I am awestruck by what I see. There on the counter top is a brown swirl of leaked coffee that is staring back at me from the white corian counter... looking like some prehistoric snow leopard. I stand transfixed and exclaim to Otis, "will you look at that!" Nothing gets me that excited at that time of the day as when I find something that looks like artwork. I head to the foyer and grab my Canon rebel, that lives there waiting for a pretty sunrise or a shot of the moon, and snap my masterpiece. What luck, today is starting out just right, I think to myself. Although it is just coffee that has leaked out of the bottom of the coffee maker, and I should be irritated that this has occurred and is staining the counter top, I can't bring myself to cleaning it up until I feel I have the right angle for my masterpiece. Once I feel that I captured this wild beast, I upload it into the computer to make sure it is for real. Satisfied, I return to the kitchen and wipe up the spill. My kind of art is lurking everywhere, especially when and where I'd least expect it.
