A Different Kind of Today

I am not succinct. I envy those who can write cleanly, those who don’t abuse commas and easily trim run-on thoughts. I am long-winded and reaching, always reaching, for connections and reasons and substance.

That’s who I am, you know?

And it carries through to almost every facet of my life. Very rarely can I let things pass unsaid. For example, I point out every wonderful thing I see on car trips – “look, a cow! do you see that windmill? those clouds are so FLUFFY. I’m pretty sure I saw a duck.”

I suspect this trait makes my company an acquired taste, but I hardly mind. I find myself amongst openhearted and loving people who accept these quirks with a laugh.

With that in mind, here are two pages from my latest watercolor chapbook. They are short and not so sweet, but I’m proud of them all the same.

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“I’m sorry – someone’s at the door and I thought I made it pretty clear that this house fire was intentional – can I call you back?”

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“I used to think it was romantic, the idea of breaking down each other’s walls, now I’m starting to see that it’s a coding violation and the landlord is calling the authorities.”

 

 

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