I am stone

The lady you see in the background was a sculpture I created way, way back, my junior year of high school. I was ever the wilful child turned into obstinate teen and did not take direction well. My art teacher warned me of clay thicknesses. I didn’t listen. The sculpt, 3 feet in length, did not live long. All that remains of her – a few photos that I treasure as a reminder- there is always more to learn from others – listen well and learn – always learn

Advertisements

brown

my eyes are brown, did you know
mud-weary at this point and still brown
brown like the polyester pants I wore as a child
brown like the earth
honest and foot-affirming
when my large brown eyes were bigger than my little face
I learned to aim high for the heavens and shoot purposefully for the stars
sky-colored eyes and sunshine hair made perfect senseΒ 
perfect sense
every time I gazed in the mirror I wondered
do they know I’m aiming and shooting for things beyond my reach
with brown eyes and brown hair and brown polyester
I am not Rapunzel or Sleeping Beauty or Cinderella
damn these wrong colors
blue eyes I do not possess
plastic eyes in ocean colors, sold by the gross, shipped on palettes
will be fitted into gorgeous dolls with sunshine hair
it doesn’t matter to a brown-eyed face that ocean eyeballs are synthetic
in her little mind, these things are more real than her own tiny heartbeat
and so the brown-eyed child grows up
dreaming
for all of us to be loved for
“the content of our character”
and the pure color of our caring

Glodian/oil

Glodian/oil

MLK’s actual quote, “…by the content of their character.” (not our) – thank you

As a brown-eyed child growing up, I often felt this way