MUD
Look at the mud puddle in the middle of the road. Look closer and tell me what you see.
I see the moon, I see the leaves, I see another road with a puddle.
I look at the Escher print and I am taken back to my childhood growing up in a logging camp. It was 9 miles off the highway by a dirt road. One of my earliest memories is playing in my back yard and making mud pies. I don't remember who taught me about mud pies but I was intent on making the best pies I could. I was caught by surprise when that night I got a spanking from my Dad for playing in the mud.
Now it didn't make any sense to me why I wasn't supposed to play in the mud. So I did it again the next day and the result was the same. My Mother told me that my Dad didn't like his little girl getting dirty. I just thought he was being unreasonable but I learned to hide some activities from my parents.
In the mornings on my way to school I would walk down a dirt road. Often I would see mud puddles in the middle of the track. I would stop and look in the puddle and see the moon in the morning sky. I would see the fireweed reflected in the water. Mud puddles had depths unplumbed.
I learned to ride my first bicycle on that dirt road. My Christmas present that year was a picture of a bicycle and when we got home from visiting my grandparents I found the bicycle as promised. It was a strange bicycle as it had a stand that attached on both sides so I would have to pick up the bike and move the stand out from under the bicycle and the stand would stick out behind. I was wobbly at first and the rocks and dips in the road were another barrier to overcome in being able to ride without falling.
I couldn't let myself fall or I would be in the mud again.
I see the moon, I see the leaves, I see another road with a puddle.
I look at the Escher print and I am taken back to my childhood growing up in a logging camp. It was 9 miles off the highway by a dirt road. One of my earliest memories is playing in my back yard and making mud pies. I don't remember who taught me about mud pies but I was intent on making the best pies I could. I was caught by surprise when that night I got a spanking from my Dad for playing in the mud.
Now it didn't make any sense to me why I wasn't supposed to play in the mud. So I did it again the next day and the result was the same. My Mother told me that my Dad didn't like his little girl getting dirty. I just thought he was being unreasonable but I learned to hide some activities from my parents.
In the mornings on my way to school I would walk down a dirt road. Often I would see mud puddles in the middle of the track. I would stop and look in the puddle and see the moon in the morning sky. I would see the fireweed reflected in the water. Mud puddles had depths unplumbed.
I learned to ride my first bicycle on that dirt road. My Christmas present that year was a picture of a bicycle and when we got home from visiting my grandparents I found the bicycle as promised. It was a strange bicycle as it had a stand that attached on both sides so I would have to pick up the bike and move the stand out from under the bicycle and the stand would stick out behind. I was wobbly at first and the rocks and dips in the road were another barrier to overcome in being able to ride without falling.
I couldn't let myself fall or I would be in the mud again.