Happy Friday, everyone! Well, I've been a bit late on posting this week, but I hope to get on a better schedule next week. Yesterday I got so flustered and even managed to lose a BIG painting that I was trying to photograph. Hoooow??? Make way! Crazy artist is lost! I spent about half an hour looking for the darn thing and finally found it hanging around outside where I had left it on a chair. My gosh. Later that night, my husband accidentally made me laugh so hard that I was unable to breathe. He was joking around while "working out" to the most ridiculous song in the world, and when he starting his overzealous pushups, he SMASHED his poor forehead on the tile. A huge red bump surfaced on that forehead, complete with the formed crease from the grout line between the tiles. He's just thankful he didn't knock his teeth out...well, me too! I'm sure he'll hate me for letting you know.
ANYWAY, there is one example of our life together. That brings me to the following story. Ahem, now gather!!
This song makes me think of this story, without a doubt.
All was still around her, except for the occasional rustle
of pages being delicately handled by prospective readers. The rare thumping of
footsteps would tread down the long hallway, audible from her spot in the
middle the vast, echoing room. She stared at her massive pile of papers; it was
work she had undertaken nearly two years prior, work that was in the slow,
methodical process of compilation, sometimes interrupted with frenzied
explosions of creativity and quick thought documentation. These papers, once
structured into a formal document resembling a small book, would mark the end
of her vigorous schooling and identify her hard work and struggles.
In complete exhaustion, she slowly rubbed her dreary eyes,
then vigorously massaged her tousled hair. She dropped her head on the messy
wooden worktable housing her designs and text and left it there for a moment. This is feeling like an absolute eternity,
she thought. After dragging both arms up from the cold, metal arms of the wooden
chair, she managed to reach the limbs to the table’s smooth surface. She
propped both elbows up on the white veneer, wiggling her hands under her chin, then
finally lifting her head. After letting out an exaggerated yawn, she blinked,
coaxing herself to get back to her work.
She looked up at the skylights on the white tiled ceiling, noticing
the sunlight shining down, but then disappearing behind the blanket of clouds.
Mesmerized by the fluid movement of the clouds against the strength of the sunshine,
she fell deep into the memory that always came back to her during exhaustion or
mind wandering. She was taken back once again.
He was standing in her view, squinting in the sunlight. His
brown, curly locks glimmered in the sunlight, blowing every which way around
his head. She noticed his neck, strong from the years of football and violin
playing, his kind lips that never failed to turn upward into a smile while
showing his naturally straight, white teeth which never required braces, and
his eyes that matched the color, movement, and vibrancy of the ocean behind
him. He yelled her name, barely audible against the sound of the wind and the
crashing waves, beckoning her to join him in the sand and water. She could not
even count the number of times he had made her laugh to the point of tears, the
times he had comforted her during what she classified as absolute tragedies.
That time, for instance, when he showed up at her doorstep
after she had failed that horrible exam . “It’s totally okay,” he smiled, handing her the Vanilla
Bean Frappuchino (he understood her too well, knowing that the frothy drink
alone would make her smile). He swiftly moved his other hand from behind his
back, revealing the small, fuzzy brown stuffed bear held by his thumb and
index finger, accompanied by the card pinched between his ring and pinkie
fingers. After handing both to her, she stared at the front of the card. It was
a series of three illustrated pictures in a column. In the first image, a dog
was sitting alone in the rain, pitifully staring down at the sidewalk. The
second picture depicted the sad, wet dog looking over to his right, noticing
another dog holding an umbrella, ears perked. And, in the third photo, the dog
with the umbrella approached the dog without one, sharing the shelter of the
umbrella and ultimately transforming the attitude of the once sad dog. She
looked up, teary eyed, not knowing what to say. He just embraced her, as he
always did. She felt safe. Loved. He had always made her feel beautiful,
strong, intelligent, and worthy of anything.
How in the world could she have left…
She blinked, realizing she was out of her nostalgic trance.
Stupid boys, she thought. The ones she had been dating were never like him.
They never could be like him. She
felt so far away. So far from success…from adventure…from love. Sighing, she
picked up her pen to begin her tumultuous work again, oblivious to her future that
would be filled with the unexpected: her line of work would be something she
had never imagined, she would travel to and live in places she had never
dreamed of, and, most importantly, she would share this new life with her first
true love.