my talented, fellow artist sister Grace snapped this pic of me, the day of my mom’s homecoming party a few weeks ago – I’m one of those who don’t relish getting their photo taken, but I like the way this image had little background. The absence of structure made me think heavenly thoughts…and of my dad who I sorely miss…
of all the Hollywood starlets, there is one I adore above all others. my love affair with Ava Gardner began long ago for many reasons. she cried when Hollywood painted out her cleft chin. she didn’t take her appearance seriously. she never trusted her talent. she drank with Hemingway. she lived life without pretense. she lived life. she really lived life. I treasure the lyrics to old man river. Sinatra. she lived on after a devastating stroke. she’s always reminded me of my mom.
(cropped image-couldn’t find photographer name to give credit)
hmm, this might be sixth grade-don’t miss the snap tie and blue knee socks
awhile back I wrote about my childhood crayon thievery – if you’d like to read just tap the magic red here 😊
butterfly lenses, in the The Paragon Journal – a thoughtful, artful, and lovely publication
this poem is based on a true childhood experience.
the first time I ever saw live crabs boiled I was with a friend’s family down the shore.
I was shocked when the crabs we were fishin’ out of the ocean were not bright red
this was the first and only time in my life I ever became homesick
“my mom and dad would never boil live creatures,” is what was running through my eleven-year-old mind
(cover and image belongs to Paragon Journal – I added cover blurb for WP image)