Something sparked to life in my brain today.
Snap, bang crash.
Leo loves these sounds. He received his first shiner of his life this week. Ran into a chair. This morning when I opened the door to pick him up out of his crib, he was holding on the railing for dear life and jumping and sing shrieking like a wild animal. I laughed at the picture of him. Where is my camera? No point, he does not stop moving these days. All the more reason to document, I suppose. Oh Leonard, you kill me. He jump jump jump jump jumped on the bed until he bashed his head. Another battle wound, I saw it coming but there was no stopping this jumper. All of these bruises remind me of one particular baby photo of my sister Erin when she was in a similar stage in her young life. Black and blue, boo boo. Sad face on the kitchen counter.
My days are filled with tenderness (hallelujah). Leo needs a lot of love, hugs, and morale support these days. He demands it. I have never loved something so much as I do his little hugs. HUGS from a baby boy, awesome. We hug a lot. It has been mellow over there these days. With the tenderness and tears and dancing to classical music and BAHHHHHH (ball) chasing, Le Poulet is a tired gros bebe (big baby). While he sleeps it off, I read. Tante Daryl gifted me Miriam Toews' latest novel Irma Voth. Hysterical; Leo stares while I laugh aloud in the middle of sentences over lunch hour.
I underlined this a few days ago on page 64 (I am trying to enjoy this book like an aperitif, slow and steady):
I told her I thought her neck was as long if not longer than my forearm, like Nefertiti.
Turning back, I smiled seeing 10 pts for Old Nef scribbled in the margin. There she is. Nothing pleases me more than eyes alighting on her name in the books stacked beside my bed. I spotted her in an Ondaatje tale. I was acquainted with Nefertiti four years ago in Berlin while blazing through Europe with Rabbi and Kit. It was a chance encounter. I knew who she was through Claire Labreque's art history course at U of W, but I never expected to see her little bust in realtime. Realtime, Berlin. Whoa, I will never forget that day; different points of learning coming together like a rewound bow or a spiderweb lacing the way to the forefront of thought. Recognition is a beautiful thing.
Miriam Toews, I love you and your crazy brain. C'est bon, Mexico!
Here is some work that spilled out of me last night, thanks be to the Queen Nef tip off a la Irma Voth. Queen Nef on my mind. What will come of this? Lord only knows. To reiterate, drawing elegance is hard to do.
Lady of Grace, my current girl crush.