Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Faces refecting my gratitude
Each day she stares into me, quietly, the matriarch of the flock, waiting for me to start her day with hay and a trip to a pasture carved into a perfect understood boundary by fence.
We have routines changed only by seasons and illness and strung together those moments culminate into a life. It's those minutes, both of us serving each other, that I am most grateful for - the opportunity to live amongst creature and earth worm, and one good man. All the rest is gravy in my boat of paintings.
Thank you too, for reading - your eyes following along on this page make my story telling a circle, not a straight line.