I drew a nice thick black line across a two page spread. Repeatedly. Pressing hard. Showing you only the one side. It may be enough and I can add or cover the right side with another day's prompt or have it ready for the next tragedy. The papers on the left had been added when we were putting three circles on random pages. This circle was appropriately red and angry and the legs and heads (a brown paper bag from the local music store is actually a page in the booklet) seemed appropriate to my anger over the plane crash in Iran. None of my business.
The day began with G finding my bowl of cooked oatmeal in the microwave. I didn't eat my breakfast yesterday. Surprise. I did eat my breakfast today. Fresh oatmeal. My head and heart hurt.
I am trying to find something to encourage my reading When Women Were Birds to the end.
As I looked out the bedroom window I noticed the tree shadows in blue gray stretched across the snow- reminding me of all the painters who have painted trees and their shadows rippling across white snow.... across white paper or canvas. And all the blank white pages in her mother's journals.
Perhaps just thinking about that is enough reason to continue reading.
5 comments:
i recently listened to an interview with her, i'll try to find it.
She is a BeautyFULL human being
I loved 'When Women were Birds' have read it three times!
I read all the way to the end- it was well worth it.
I can't tell you just how much inspiration I am finding in your collages. Thank you.
This one really speaks to me. Such much energy in those lines.
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