Big Guy

Big guy
brother of my love
I remember meeting you ten years ago in B’ham
you were driving an old truck
Walter called you Fred Sanford
I remember you hugging each other
brothers, almost twins
we joked, taunted, teased
but underneath, pure love
we both loved to talk
to cook
we were both loud
we both loved Walter

the last time I saw you
we walked around in your garden
you showed me the remnants of the vegetables you’d planted last summer
you
loud of mouth
green of thumb
heart of gold

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Hello!

It’s a strange time for a hello post.  It sounds like I’m just starting out.  Instead I’m returning.  I’ve been on FB a lot and mostly sharing other people’s posts.  But I’m feeling the need/desire to write more.  So maybe I’ll be back.  If you want to hear more from me, check out Artsy Wanderer on FB.  Can’t promise lots of content but there’s a lot more than here.  I hope you’ve all been well! :)

Sunflowers and crepe myrtle

  

 This is a true story. Last Saturday night my husband and I went to a concert. On the walk from the parking lot to the concert area we passed a series of flowers. First sunflowers. Then crepe myrtle. I noticed them and talked about them. We took the picture above with the sunflowers. As we passed the crepe myrtle I said “I wonder if they like lots of sun.”

After the concert it was dark and we started to get lost going back to the car. Then I remembered the flowers. We looked for the crepe myrtle and found it. And then the sunflowers and we got back to the car. 

It was a bit like Hansel and Gretel with the breadcrumbs in the forest. I’ve always loved flowers. And they love me back.  

It becomes what it’s supposed to be

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Source

I’m always amazed by the creative process.  It’s like I have an internal muse.  For at least two years I was a dollmaker and then abruptly I stopped. Now, crocheting is my passion.  My favorite thing is to order yarn and even if I might have plans for it, it becomes what it’s supposed to be.  I may buy yarn for a scarf for a friend.  And yet, it might get called into a blanket for someone else.  The yarn speaks, quietly and in many colors.

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