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dublingirl
Bowlie
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We entered the home of a genius - no furniture - but consumed in art. Stacks of paintings - boxes, closets, walls...full. Each as wonderful as the first, the last. Each an incredible discovery. Each one a blessing. And he gave me three paintings...I wanted to pay. I wanted to give him something in return - yet he would accept nothing - saying that at nearly age 90 he had provided for himself, though I am unsure just how. And I worry. I want to laugh. I want to cry. I want to let the world know that this....this...is why I do what I do. This is why we all do what we do - and why my colleague Tom is a giant among men, and why we all need to continue...to continue. And I feel so unworthy. And I feel so desperate to do something. And I feel so lucky. |
listening to: my heart thinking about: the east end...and the roads seems like yesterday...:
homeward bound - 19 January 2010 shameless self promotion: (~ waterblogged ~)
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