One morning you might wake up
to realize that the knot in your stomach
had loosened itself and slipped away,
and that the pit of unfilled longing in your heart
had gradually, and without your really noticing,
been filled in—patched like a pothole, not quite
the same as it was, but good enough.
And in that moment it might occur to you
that your life, though not the way
you planned it, and maybe not even entirely
the way you wanted it, is nonetheless—
persistently, abundantly, miraculously—
exactly what it is.
—Lynn Ungar
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And so it is with these found-composition bookmarks.
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(a) Wandering the Banks of Ancient Rivers Like the Waccamaw (b) Feeling Warm Pluff Mud Squirt Beneath My Toes 1.5 x 6" bookmarks; acrylic, ink, and oil pastel on paper abstract 2022 |
