





Gregory and I first saw Jamee’s work when she set up a table on Last Thursday on Alberta Street six years ago. I was enchanted by the rendering of the most mundane objects: sneakers, a handbag, and house plants.
Unfortunately, or rather fortunately, I had forgotten my check book at home and was seriously short of cash. I asked Jamee if she had a card or e-mail address, so I could contact her later. She gave it to me, though I really don’t think she expected me to – people looking at art can be rather flaky! Well I did, and shortly after, Gregory and I ventured over to her place to check out her work. I loved what I saw and bought two paintings on the spot. Thus began our wonderfully artistic friendship.
We later commissioned her to paint a portrait of us on our wedding day from a photograph. She did a marvelous job, but much to my dismay, it is one thing to look at paintings of strangers, but it was rather creepy to have us in public like that, so it remains safely displayed in a closet for our eyes only.
Jamee is very, very talented. She can work on any scale, paint people, a highway overpass, the aforementioned handbag, a pastoral landscape, or scuplt a dress, all with equal aplomb. What is most lovely, however, is Jamee. She is a truly kind person who loves making art. I am proud to have her work displayed in my home.
I own all of the art on this page and more. I can’t help myself! If you’d like to see all she can do, visit her website: www.jameelinton.com. There’s lots of information about the various places where her art is exhibited, including television. Go Jamee!

You might not know this about me, but I love movies. When I started this whole blog endeavor, I knew that I would write about them, but what troubled me was deciding which one to write about first. Some might say, how about your favorite? Ooh la la! The word favorite is very tricky because it is so exclusive. Here’s an example:
When Martin Luther King, Jr. died on April 4th 1968, I was three years from being born. As a white girl, living in a predominantly white neighborhood, I would only be scarcely aware of his existence until I bought my favorite U2 album The Unforgettable Fire in 1984. Despite this pathetic history, he is ever present in my life now, providing me with a shining example of goodness, bravery, intelligence, and wisdom.
In January, after one of my quarterly trips Buffalo Exchange to sell and donate clothes, I had an epiphany. If I “am” my possessions, why am I constantly getting rid of them?
I first saw Wayne Dyer on PBS when they were advertising for his special about The Power of Intention. Something about the commercials really turned me off, so I didn’t watch the show or buy the book.
I guess it must have been a couple of years later when the show for his next book Inspiration: Your Ultimate Calling came on the air. Like the first time, I was resistant, making sure I kept away from PBS the first night it was aired. However, rather surprisingly, when I turned on the television on a lazy Sunday afternoon and saw that it was on, I kept watching. 



















