the mess

It’s spring. The woods are a mess: icy trails, mud next to the ice. But, hey, it’s spring: what a gift!

The baby needs a new diaper; the baby just spit up; sometimes a mess. But it’s Cecilia. Cecilia! she’s a gift. Yes, such a gift.

My art is all over the place: cluttering this table top, falling out of that box: it’s a mess. But, it’s my darn art and, it feels like a gift to me.

The gifts that really give back. Those gifts. The real gifts.

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