We are home from the Art Show, where I read the essay I wrote in front of about 50 people. The show was really good, even if some of the images in the art were hard to look at.
There was a huge quilt, at least the size of two king size bedspreads put together, made of nothing but blocks of hands. Each hand print was another person who was a survivor of sexual assault in some manner. All of the blocks had names on them, and many of the blocks had words. A lot of the words were pain-filled, but there were two blocks in particular that caught my attention. One read, “I have SURVIVED!” and looked almost triumphant as it was surrounded by blocks with either just hands and names or hands and pain-filled words. The other block that really caught my attention read, “He didn’t steal my soul.”
After we were home for a little bit, Conall and I went to our favorite sushi restaurant. Okay, myfavorite sushi restaurant. He always eats something else because he thinks raw fish is “ucky” and he also doesn’t like the seaweed in non-fish sushi. Dinner was fantastic, as usual there. On the way home, I asked him for some fluffy topics for this blog, as I still wasn’t quite feeling “fluffy” from earlier.
The smart alack my husband is, he replied with, “Dryer lint.” I looked at him quizically, and he said, “A feather.” I started laughing, and he kept going, “Puppy fur. Goose down. Snow in January.”
“Depends on the kind of snow,” I countered.
“The dry snow that doesn’t even bend a blade of grass,” he said, with a smile.
So, there’s the fluffy post for today. Filled with puppy fur and dryer lint and what they call “powder” up on the ski slopes. I hope you enjoyed! (I did tell Conall I was going to post this, and he didn’t believe me. He should know me better than that!)