the morning
i woke up to warm blueberry muffins and orange juice. shared lovingly between frankenstein and myself. the sun was calm and the day on its way...i called my mom just to catch up. she's been frantic lately and it has me concerned that she too will turn into my grandmother. in clean pajamas we spoke on our cordless phones about many things. family, friends, the normal conversations any child would expect to have with a parent. and then, somehow, the conversation turned to me. normally i do not like this turn, it usually involves attacks about my ever growing tattoo collection...or worse...finances. yet, to much surprise, she calmly encouraged me to go back to school for photography or creative writing: "you should pursue something you are passionate about, that's the only way to be successful." i was completely taken aback. my mother, my insane country mother who believes that a woman's place is working to provide no matter what the cost was actually telling me not to give up on my own life, not to become just a wife. i opened up to her immediately for these are the kind of conversations i long to have with my mom. where i don't have to defend myself, where i can express myself comfortably explain who i am and where i am at in life. i told her in response, "it's so complicated being married this first year. i want to take care of the bills, the cleaning, the pets, our home...but i get so overwhelmed and discontent because i want to be doing something for my own future." i told her how just a few weeks ago over dishes i discussed my life's path with the sponge. "i was always defined as an artist. it was what made me complete. i never thought i'd be here, not writing...not producing artwork." the sponge listened contently as did my mother. we talked for almost an hour, in was surreal. as surreal as the persistence of time by dali. i left the conversation feeling something i'd never felt before. my mother wants me to not make the mistakes she has, to sacrifice but not everything for relationships sake. i fear now at 51 she has finally realized how much time has passed, and how many dreams she let go along the way. for her, myself, and my passion as an artist i will not let my heart go unnoticed just to provide.