Diane, you dive deep beyond judgment, digging through pain and anger to rise up with words shimmering, as the re-done photos do, for all of the complexity.
I had that difficult relationship with my dad. His logo for his business was an artist rendering of his face. Four feet high. He's been dead over 25 years. His giant wooden, weather-beaten head lives in my closet, facing the wall. I take it out every year or so to see if I can either a) mount it somewhere or b) ditch it. Then it goes back in the closet, facing the wall. ❤️🩹
Diane, you dive deep beyond judgment, digging through pain and anger to rise up with words shimmering, as the re-done photos do, for all of the complexity.
Thank you, Stephen, for your poetic comments.....much appreciated.
Yeah. It’s so easy to forget our parents were someone else entirely before life screwed with them…this is beautiful.
Thanks, Jodi
I had that difficult relationship with my dad. His logo for his business was an artist rendering of his face. Four feet high. He's been dead over 25 years. His giant wooden, weather-beaten head lives in my closet, facing the wall. I take it out every year or so to see if I can either a) mount it somewhere or b) ditch it. Then it goes back in the closet, facing the wall. ❤️🩹
I understand this at a deep level. Thank you.
Thanks for reading, Angela. And writing a comment.
Lovely!
Thank you, Susan.
Thanks to Rachel of Open Secrets for publishing my essay today. Happy Mother's Day to all.