RIP

Green

I
got
my
first
pair
of
glasses
in
the
4th
grade.
There
are
many
stories
based
on
those
glasses
but
this
is
not
about
those.
I
have
noticed
that
because
my
eye
sight
is
so
poor;
I
can
smell
extremely
well.
It
has
come
to
guide
me.
This
sense
has
taken
me
through
this
spring
into
summer.
Lilacs,
grape
vines,
peonies.
This
morning
I
was
watering
the
garden
as
the
sun
crept
into
the
day.
There
it
was.
Heat
lifting
off
of
pavement,
and
dust,
and
green.

Grand Marais III 2009

Grand Marais II 2009

Grand Marais 2009

Christine and her daughter Angel (All of you make my Life More Interesting)

Fascinating,
Things you notice
when your time
reference
changes.
People.
Ones who
you now
notice
that
your
back
on
the
same
pace
again.
She
bought
a
trunk
from
you
years
ago.
You
always
remember
that
she
has
a
look
on her
face
like
she
is
trying
to
connect
to
the
reality
of
the
moment
somewhere
in
her
brain
but
somehow
can't.
I would
hold
yard
sales
on
May
Day.
A
spectacular
parade
is
held
nearby
me
and
throngs
of
characters
show
up.
She
was
the
first
to
wonder
lost
among
the
thrown-out.
And
she
collected
trunks
and
would
like
to
buy
this
one,
"how
much?"
I
don't
remember
what
we
settled
on
but
the
spirit
that
always
shuddered
from
within
that
trunk
somehow
had
found
its
home
and
I
was
happy
to
be
rid
of
it.
It
somehow
had
found
itself
inside
the
trunk
after
it
left
the
cedar
wood
chest
it
previously
resided
in.
It
would
wake
me
up
at
night
if
I
forgot
to
close
the
doors.
So
it
was
another,
"adieu
to
you."
When my
parents
were
bringing
it
to me
in
the
first
place
of
my
own.
My
Dad
sat
it
upright
in
the
back
of
the
truck
and
wind
made
sure
to
pick
it
up
and
shatter
it
to
bits
on
75 South.
Peace
be
with
you.
A story we
would
razz
my
Dad
about
later
many times
but,
thruth-
be-
told,
we
were
happy
to
see
you
go.
And
so
here
you
are
again,
Christine,
and
Angel
is
about
to
graduate.
(a beautiful
caramel child)
and
you
are
still
waiting
at
the
bus
stop
with
her.
Glad
you
still
have
the
trunk.
Be
well.
And
there
they
are.
Always.
A
snapshot.
Somewhere
between
a
polaroid
and
a
movie
still.
Grainy
and
a
slight
out
of
focus
but
brilliant
colors.
Christine
with
a
processed
bob
in
a
crocheted
shawl
the
color
of
white
that
always
looks
dirty
and
snow
boots
with
the
temperature
diving
from
the
80's
to
the
60's
you
were
prepared.
And
Angel.
Always
in
pink.
With
vibrant
toffee
golden
skin
gleaming
beneath
braids
clasped
with
big
red
balls
of
polyurethane.
The
rain
seems
right.
And
the
color
of
spring
trying
to
find
its
way
back.
Peonies
droop.

What a nice way to end.(my child stops to reflect on how she came about realizing her dreams.)

Hello. I believe we met one time at a parent teacher conference when my daughter took me down to the art room to meet her Art teachers. My name is Kim and I am Jordan's Mom. I was on my way to work this morning and had some time to reflect on a few things, (rush hour traffic offers that opportunity). As I was sitting in traffic, I started thinking about what Jordan said to me last night. She proudly showed me a picture she had made for you both and said matter of fact, “I made this for them because they gave me so much and I wanted to leave a piece of me behind for them to remember me.” Last night I was so proud that she thought to do something like that. Today, I really thought about it and see that you both made such a huge impact on Jordan’s art, self-esteem and determination and that is also what I am so proud of. I feel very fortunate to have my daughter, my kids, in a school where the teachers are so inspirational that my child stops to reflect on how she came about realizing her dreams. I want to thank you both for the impact you have had on Jordan’s art, but more importantly, her person. Thank you for all you have done.



Sincerely,

Kim

Proud Parent

Untitled

The
first
peony
blossom
is
one
that
never
escapes
the
wrath
of
a
scissors.
I
bring
it
in.
Put
it
in
a
silver
vase
on
the
dining
room
table.
Its
scent
fills
my
house.