THIS IS US
Self Portrait
I could be an ink on paper where the ink soaked through to where we meet
If I were a mathematical formula I would be a chalkboard full of symbols and arrows. No. I would be many such chalkboards.
Or maybe just a crayon writing 1+1=
With no answer. Wondering.
Perhaps as a song I would be a combining of something that resonates in thunderous bass tones with a lightness on top, and a thumping beat… there would be a chorus of punk rock. As well a clear ping ping of water on a ceramic bowl. Dancing.
Or as a meal I could be, on some days a handmade feast of carefully overlapping tastes, textures, and temperatures. Salty, and sweet, spicy and bitter. Singe your tongue in one bite, cool drink of bubbly in the next. Other days I am reheated leftovers, soaked in yesterday’s flavors. Reminding.
As a weaving I might have threads of moss, and my beloved’s hair, the purple plastic tassel from my bike when I was nine, the silk of longing, and itchy wool — (because life is many things but not comfortable). I would be an elfish cloak that allows for air, and magically keeps out the cold. Wrapping you in love and ideas and giving you gumption to explore. Tending.
