Monday, September 13, 2010
"MORE THAN A FEELING"
*Before you begin reading the following, please read my introductory post below this one.
"HANDLE WITH CARE":
Susan paced while staring at the blank wall as she spoke on the phone: “No, he won’t be home from his trip until tomorrow. The girls really miss their Daddy.” Susan missed him, too. They weren’t used to being apart but she decided instead of moping about her husband's temporary absence, that she would instead use the time constructively to get their new house fixed up while he was gone. “Still have no idea what to do with this one wall”, she continued. “It’s driving me crazy! Any artistic capabilities and thoughts I may have had seem to have flown right out the window. I’m so tired of beige yet I just can’t seem to think of anything better to do with it.”
Susan hadn’t painted in ages, she realized. Not since her Mom…she quickly swatted the thought away knowing there was simply too much to be done. “Thanks, I’m gonna need it. Talk to you soon.” As she hung up the phone with her friend she caught a glimpse of herself in the beveled mirror she hung in the living room -- unsure of its permanence there. Right now, nothing in place was a sure or permanent thing as she continued to unpack. That mirror for one, especially. Now was not a good time or place for reflection. Susan was dressed casually in denim overall shorts with a white top and bare feet that were badly in need of a pedicure as she looked down at unpolished toenails. Her red hair was thrown up in a claw clip, just to get it off of her neck and face. Her face that she thought showed her age of 44. Her face that her husband loved for the very reasons she didn’t. While he found those little wrinkles on her forehead and around her brown eyes endearing, she found every wrinkle cream on the market that promised to make them disappear all together. “Why couldn’t I age like my mother?” she thought.
The sound of the twins' girlie voices out back squealing with delight -- as the cool water drops from the sprinklers hit their feet and legs -- snapped her back into the project that lie in front of her. They’ll soon be coming in wanting lunch, hungry from exerted energy and soaking up all that vitamin D. Susan decided she’d better seize the quiet opportunity of the girls being outside for the time being and proceeded to take a good, hard look around the room. Beige. Beige walls and beige boxes. Well, no better place or time to remedy this than right now. She turned on the stereo that was pre-set to her favorite classic rock station. The Sweets 'Fox On The Run' was channeling through; “I, I, I…don’t even know your name, ‘cause you don’t look the same, the way you did befoooore. Well, okay. You think you got a pretty face, but the rest of you is out of place…you looked alright befoooore…Fox on the run…”. Music was the thing she needed at this moment to propel and motivate her. Soon she would be so lost in the lyrics and rhythm of the songs on the radio that her mind would easily forget about the tasks and chores at hand being actual work and she would soon find herself just pummelling through...she hoped.
She opened her first box marked 'FRAGILE: HANDLE WITH CARE'. How appropriate, Susan thought. "Stay focused, Susan. Stay focused." The artist in her loved the sound of the box cutter sliding across the center where it had been sealed with packaging tape. She ripped it open listening to the ripping sound of the flaps giving way. A wave of emotion soon flooded her as she unwrapped a picture of herself with her mother, Marianne. The old newspaper that was around the frame was now torn and crumpled on the floor. Susan continued to look at the photo through emotional eyes that were now blurry with tears. She was twelve in this picture -- the same age her girls were now. Twelve was a good age, she recalled and -- thinking back now -- 1978 was a good year...