(unedited) A spinning top. My late Dad. Feet like pegs – square, distinct, “clumsy”, – yet everything above the surface is smooth and round. We aren’t meant to notice the body – dressed in neutrals. We are meant to notice the shiny, bright colours – as in our lives. Over here! Look at the birdie! Can we pay attention to the nuances of neutrals, when things gradiate… gradients and blend.
By contrast – let’s cry. I’ve been crying a lot this week. September 14 was the 8 year anniversary of my dad’s passing. You know that gut-wrenching void of hollowness in your stomach…? your abdominals? Like somehow your shoulders are so heavy and curved down and inward, weighing on a hollow center. Breathe. Feel. Lean. Ahh…crying. Since I’ve been off work I’ve been able to cry.
Let’s go back to the spinning. The abstraction. The veil. Removing this veil through writing and sharing is so healing. Oh by the way, my dad is here you know. He told me so. That’s pretty cool, as he was my cheerleader in life -> every kid needs the unwavering support and presence of someone in their life like that. Red and yellow – much like the dress, those were my sister’s and my favourite colours. My dad knew that.
where rivers are born 