Since I have been spending more time at Mom's , I have been spending more time with some of the things she has hanging on the walls. More time with my past in a way. In a new way really. Because I have seen it all before. Some things are mine. Like this drawing done of Mom and Dad. From way back when I was in art school. I didn't finish. School , that is. This time I noticed how different the image was under glass. How the shiny surface always caught the things around it. How I could recompose the image using the placement of the reflection of the window. And then how that new layer might change the story.
Love has so may aspects really. It is hard to see one without the other. Still looking through them all frees one from blocking the beauty in that.
This morning I enjoyed building a fire in the wood stove and watching the sun come up though some old linen. Stitched with a pair of imperfect wings.