The rusty metal of the hanger seemed to beg for embellishment or at least that’s what I told myself.
I cut, wrap, and rework, remembering how my mom used to make wreaths for holidays and as gifts.
Moments like this one connect me to her in a positive way. I laugh to myself and thank God for the opportunity to see her from a different perspective, past, and present.
Swan diving into the soul of strangers she found they weren’t strange at all; cut from the same cosmic cloth they are.
The words truth and transparency tumbled around her soul and swirled around her heart.
Oscillating in every direction, shaking loose the untruths from the root.
Truth and Transparency
Sometimes the truth feels like a swift judo chop to the throat.
But, there is freedom in the judo chop of truth.
The gag is the bag is within.