Living Art

This is our garden truck that, you can see, hasn’t been used in a while for gardening. When my husband brought it home many years ago, it was love at first sight for me. Look at that torquoise color! And such a big expressive face! What personality! And, now, in its ripe old age, it has become a veritable work of living Art–a lovely vine winding its way through the windows, over the roof and onto the back bed, an on-going creation that stands as a testament to time, transformation, and immortality.


Good news from an e-mail last week–a story of mine has been accepted by The Main Street Rag, a literary journal out of N. Carolina. You’d think I would’ve been elated, but it was met with mixed feelings at first, as I was just about ready to tear into the piece again, make it better. . . But then I realized, I had set it free; I had felt it was strong and good enough to go out into the world . . . It is no different, really, from the bouquets I make for the market every weekend– I could fuss and fuss over them til the cows come home (which I learned spending summers on my grandparents’ farm, may be never, til you chase them down). Comes a time you have to let your creations stand on their own. And if you’ve tried your best, someone will treasure them.