Patchwork
I. I read slowly, emphasizing every morsel of personification and alliteration. Leaving questions of hope and sorrow to hang heavily in the air. No one uttered a sound. We compared Raphael and Giotto, Revolutionary masters of light and dark. Trailblazers. We pushed pins into the timeline of the human story, marking Confucius, Caesar Augustus, and Jesus Christ. Just neighbors in the grand scheme of things. We chiseled into dusty geodes and found hidden secrets. There is such a lot of world to see. II. My son stood in the kitchen eating salami and cheese, apple slices in hand. He watched me standing in the studio, the 1960's pass through window connecting us. I ate a pastrami sandwich, with mustard and pickles, remembering the lunches of Pasadena Sandwich Company, and a life that once was mine. Los Angeles. Sunsets along the PCH. Falling in love. Every single possibility ahead. III. "Mom, are you happiest when creating?"
