I dump the purses out onto the bench, here sits three weeks of work Three whole weeks. I wonder to myself, how much they will sell for at Pretty Ethnic and Belizean Arts in San Pedro. I can only make about
The funny thing about growing old, is that nothing really changes, we just become more of who we are, softer or stiffer. I hope that Age will soften me.
In February, when my mother visited I found out a couple of new things about her. I found out that when she was a teenager she wanted to play the base violin, not with the bow, but to pluck it and play in a jazz band. He mother made her play the piano, she hated it and wasted the lessons. As a girl, I studied classical piano, or rather tolerated it. I loved the piano, but quit the lessons at age 16 because I just wanted to play like Elton John circa 1976. I can still read a little music, and play every so often, not often enough to keep unrusty though.
I found out that my mother had had a pregnancy before my oldest brother who was born 2 years after my parents married at the ages of 16 and 18.
I found out that the older I get the more like my father I become. Introverted, cerebral, needing a lot of time, brain space, can’t be rushed, quiet. I read the i
nstruction booklet before I start. My mother, who should be my biggest fan, isn’t. And it has always puzzled me. I am not a drug addict, or bank robber, or prostitute. I am just a girl following her dream, wherever it takes
It was the quietness of this year, the year I quit my life in