Sunday, March 22, 2015


Spring break
offered hours and hours
of unscheduled time
for projects in process
presently focused
on the forthcoming
critter-theme show
at a favorite
grooming shop.

While their business
revolves primarily
around dogs
and I'm working on
doggy pieces
today my mind is on my cat
who ate my bird this week
and is sitting
highly precariously
on the cliff of my heart.
You might say she is
balancing there
in a most miraculous way.
I loved that little bird.
I cried when I found
the little clump
of yellow feathers
one skinny leg
and a teeny tiny
the dining room floor.
Of course
guardian of my bedside nights
is not talking.
I get it. He's no snitch.
So I'm just
to move on.
Color and getting messy
always helps me feel better.
Throwing around
and slopping them
with glue
and paint
and momentary
odd choices
in media
is more than my
chosen form of
It's the only therapy that works for me
dialing my soul back
to a happy place
and reminding me
it's all about the moment.
Not yesterday.
Not tomorrow.
The moment. 

Works in progress.
You'll notice
some spaces
still drying.

Over my little
break yogurt
I'm smiling
maybe actually
laughing a bit
at how much
I think my mom
would like
the colors
and the use of her fabric
and the reckless abandon
with which
I've buried
her neatly-appointed
sort of French-country
living room
creative debris.

And I'm feeling better.
Not perfect.
And I honestly
don't like this cat.

But I'm better.

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