Towering cannas and cleomes wave over the empty sidewalks.

Throw seven foot shadows pointing the way to the dentist as I wander Bryn Mawr in the morning light.

I can hardly contain myself — the connection to this neighborhood, the deep memories — and yes, the long shadows.

A picturesque existence in a Christmas card perfect bungalow.  Planting gardens and dreaming.  Writing and refinishing.  Preparing.

Simple.  Enough.

For me.

But not for him.

And so, we left by way of the shadows.  The beginning of a truly wretched ending.

And still.

This morning, this place, brings me utter joy.

Makes me smile with my whole body.  And ask —

Is this not amazing grace?

That giant leaves and brilliant blooms way over my head have the power to delete disappointment and vanish the stain of suffering?

Truth and beauty —

prevail.

My art flows from the patterns & paths of my lived experience which ⏤ like yours ⏤ are at once deeply personal and entirely universal.

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