"Anti-valentine--(n) a curative measure, most often administered during the month of February; a kind of medicinal tonic, often melancholy, bitter or dark, traditionally made from paper, glue and epistolary materials," so read the party invitation sent our by the visual artists to the whole Vermont Studio Center community. Some made anti-valentines. Some made valentines. The latter, I'm relieved to report, outnumbered the former.
It was fun. But I'm not going to send it.
Tomorrow, they say, is Lupercalia, an ancient Roman festival of wolves that traditionally involved much drinking, carousing, and a ceremony where young men ran around clad in goatskins lashing people with strips of goat skin for good luck.
I'm feeling like my luck is pretty good, actually.
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It's a weird way to have a conversation. But go ahead. Then I'll find your blog (if you have one) and comment about something there. We probably won't be talking about the same thing--but I've had conversations like that, haven't you?