The Red WagonNot long ago, when I paraded around in my school sweatshirt, I was often asked about the peculiar red wagon pin attached to the pocket. It was a valid question, I suppose. No one my age wears pins, and certainly not with an unflattering school uniform. So I considered the question then, and I consider it now. At first, I didn’t really have an answer. I let the question hang awkwardly in the air, like a well-worn tweed coat tucked gently in the back of one’s closet, the mystery beguiling both myself and the person asking. But with further thought, I think I found an answer. I realize now that the reason this silly little pin mattered to me soThe Red Wagon
Mundane Activity Number 2The day isn't over yet. The residue of a perfectly executed morning routine clings to my eyelids, fairy dust for the nonbelievers, and on my cheeks there is cover-up which refuses to hide the truth. This is my mask.Mundane Activity Number 2
A button pops off my skort and with a loud PING lands in the next stall, just as empty as the rest. The damn thing would barely fit an anorexic 11 year old, I thought to myself, comforting my wounded ego with the usual banter. I don't bother with buttons anyway... who has the time? It finally fits a bit better, but still digs of course. It wouldn't be a "Sunshine Uniforms" skort without the signature red welts you're
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I vow to paint half as many portraits as I did last year.
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