Praise the low January morning sunlight painting a textured illuminated stripe across the chair I picked up for free in front of what used to be a schoolhouse way back in the day and is now a home beside what next became the schoolhouse and is now an American Legion Hall.
Praise the air blowing from the heating ducts with a rushing sound, inciting the spathophylum leaves on a table above one duct to dance and warming me as I putter in the early minutes of a new day, preparing food, reading email, putting away silverware waiting for me on a towel on the counter beside a bowl of bright yellow lemons.
Praise the clutter on my yard-sale-table desk—the open poetry book napping with its spine up in the air, the gift card with notes scribbled all over it from a phone call, the nail clipper, the Posca paint markers, the jar of pencils acquired one by one from hair appointments at Locksmyth's, the partially finished painting, the kitchen timer that counts up and down, the magnet displaying the poison control phone number, the three-ring binder of lesson plans, the Gold Bond Ultimate Skin Therapy Cream.
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| The Friend Who Starts It All 9 x 12"; acrylic, ink, and pastel on drawing paper abstract face 2021 $45 |
