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Looking For Love In A Laundry Basket
.... in search of a fabric not yet woven.
I can't wear this today, dear Mommy-Mom.
Don't be silly, Anson, I just washed it.
It's the wrong color, I'll get in trouble.
But you love the brown shirt, my sweet boy.
I must wear red, white AND blue today.
Oh, yes, of course, I remember, all three.
It's taking too long; what are you doing?
I'm searching, my boy, and frantically.
For blue jeans, red shirt and white socks?!?!
No, Anson, for one color that joins us all.
On, no, please hurry; can't you find it?
Honey Boy, I'm not sure what it looks like
I'll help Mommy-Mom, together we'll find it.
Yes, let's keep looking, it has to be here.
****
... for all the world's children, my own, my surrogates, the grands who are here and the grands to be born, and for you, Anson Ranier Tenoso, when the time comes, and if not you live in our spirits' wish for you, beyond the life of a jumping bean. It's your generation that must weave this fabric, and weave it well.
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Thank you for perspective at a pivotal point in our social consciousness.
Linda Luna
the American fabric is taking time to weave indeed! Thanks for this thoughtful piece
Carmen :-)
I felt ambivelance, Anne. I am not patient, this mother is... There is such a sense of surrealism to this piece, for me. This is me, now, with kids, except, it's the patient me, whom I don't know, very well.
As usual as with much of your works on, what I feel as disassociation of self and world in a "Who am I and what the hell am I here for?" style, which I feel deeply, as you know, there is that sense of incredulous disbelief that that is you/me...
Sweet, that...