The Lardner Report

Unleash your creative superpowers!

2026: Kicking Fear to the Curb

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A New Year’s resolution long overdue: Sketch once a week.

We all struggle with insecurities and fear. Sometimes they become blocks to achieving our goals. But when they deprive you of expressing your joy, well, we’ve really got a problem. I’ve been an artist as long as I can remember, but make work inconsistently or periodically. NOTHING lights me up more than a session at the art table, or attacking a huge canvas with fat brushes loaded with paint. But with increasing frequency, I manage to make other tasks a priority — or convince myself I don’t deserve the creative experience — leaving the exhilarating, rewarding chunks of my day in the dust. WTF?

So as 2026 rolls in, I’m committing to making art EVERY WEEK — no excuses — hoping you guys can hold me accountable. It may be a small, incomplete sketch — or it may be a series of agitated scribbles — but it will be art, and it will be consistent. I’ll share in a post, and might even encourage you to draw along with me. I know that confronting fear is the only way to grow. And I want 2026 to be my year of EXPLOSIVE GROWTH.

Pathetic Shoe Obsession: WTF?

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(Pic #1) The “keep” pile that I’ll never wear again.

“When one door closes, a shoebox opens.” — Carrie Bradshaw, Sex and the City

We decided to begin the dreaded task of de-cluttering the house this week. It’s no big deal to husband Josh, but to me, well, I’d rather shove an ice pick through my freshly-pedicured big toe.

When faced with letting go of “things” I’ve had for years — even decades — I just get paralyzed. Totally immobile, hopelessly frozen. I’m sure it’s some sort of childhood trauma rearing its ugly head, but I tend to ignore anything that requires authentic introspection.

So when it came to dealing with the shoe section in my closet (I’m guessing there were a minimum of 50 pairs) I just couldn’t commit to any serious elimination. I ended up collecting a box of heels  that are insanely uncomfortable, way too small, and pointless to keep. I said to Josh as I reverently held up a pair of Calvin Klein satin sling-backs, “How can these be a size 8? I’ve never worn a size 8.” (If you care, I wear a size 10.)

But man, are they cute.

Then I unearthed a pair of cinnamon-colored silk rose pedal-accented sandals that I absolutely couldn’t let go. (Pic #2) Ga-ga-gorgeous — but unwearable.

And man, are they cute. (Pic #2)

If you have experienced this kind of uncontrollable obsession (clinging to useless objects for absurd sentimental reasons) please contact me. I just need to know my issues are not “solely” my own.

(Pic #2) Silk rose pedal-accented spikes.

 

 

 

 

 

The Art of Healing

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(Pic #1) “Piglet” in her best days. Rest In peace, my princess.

We lost “Piglet” our 14-year old, deaf, asthmatic cat (with one tooth) today. If you’ve had to put your pet down, you know the agony. “When is the best time? Am I prolonging her suffering? Will I really know the perfect moment to bring her in?” The whole thing made me crazy, painfully unsure, and sick to my stomach. You never really get the answers, and if you do, you will still question your actions. I must have talked to four or five friends and relatives — asking all of them for their diagnoses on Piglet’s movements and demeanor. Sue, my loving friend who is a registered nurse, and my uber-compassionate sister-in-law, Leandra, took the brunt of my frenetic calls. For a while, I couldn’t breathe, and if it hadn’t been for my inhaler, I might have gone to the emergency room for my own species.

(Pic #2) Piglet, days before the end.

I couldn’t bear to see her suffer. I couldn’t stand to let her go. But it appeared to be the right call. I cried until I couldn’t cry anymore, and then when she was “on the table” at the ER vet, I pressed my ear up against her face, and cupped her head. From that tiny velvet nose I heard a weak but rhythmical purr — and just lost it. That was the last communication between us. So in the light of morning, I dragged myself to the gym, and shared my sadness with gym mates. Those awful waves of grief kept crashing in my head, and the ache never left my belly. Then I received a text from my husband Josh, with this video (below) attached. It was a love session with our other shelter cat, “Mukluk.” A full-on purr festival between another magical furry creature and a man who knew exactly what I needed to see, and hear. Suddenly, I felt enrobed in love. In a 36-second recording, Josh found the perfect way to lift my spirits, appreciate the gifts we have, and suggest gratitude over grief. Could there be any better way to heal? Pictures of PIglet and Mukluk below. Mukluk Purr festival from Lonnie Lardner on Vimeo.

(Pic #3) Piglet sunbathing under the bougainvillea.

(Pic #4) Mukluk in the garden.

(Pic #5) Mukluk and Piglet — peacefully coexisting.