Blankets of grace (c. 2008)
You were born
wrapped in blankets
that can never be worn thin,
no frays or tears.
No one can steal a thread.
We sew quilts,
patches tell stories.
We are wrapped in
blankets of grace
and quilts of testimony.
Image from Christine Tyler Hill
Love Letter #4 Love you more than cake!
(and that really means something coming from me)
Artwork adapted from Cakes by Wayne Thiebaud, one of my favorite artists!
Love Letter #2 (back)
Ceci n'est pas une lettre d'amour. This is not a love letter. Paying homage to Rene Magritte's La trahison des images.
So this is how an ex-French major does correspondence.
Love Letter #1
Yesterday, my post about my parents’ love letters got a little more attention than I expected. I just thought I’d share something from my own letters. I got restless when my significant other was briefly overseas and without internet connection, so I wrote him the old fashioned way. I don’t have pretty stationary or anything, so I decorate the backs with print and watercolors.
Last week my dad had to go up to the attic for something, and while he was up there, he decided to take down the jam packed box of love letters he and my mother exchanged for the 6 months they were separated by the Pacific Ocean. My dad read one of my mom’s letters aloud, part of which enumerated a couple of ‘their songs.’ I had never heard of them, so my dad found them on youtube and played them for me, while the two slow danced in the family room. This is how we do in my family, all cheesy and such.
By the way, my folks, they’ve been married over 30 years.
Rummaging through my closet and I found some Best of Disney records and other vinyl treats but all I had to play them were a twin set of broken Fisher Price record players. I feel like there’s a cheesy poem somewhere in there, something about unsung childhood memories and all that, hmm.


