I love me and her. She's my light as day dawns. She's the air that I breathe and the beauty that captivates me. It's rare that she rushes at anything she does, but takes her creative time copying, cutting and pasting her way through life. Didn't go to college for it, but teaches at the School of Collage.
Don't get me wrong - her copies, like real diamonds, always have a slight variation that makes her work, like snowflakes in a snowstorm, perpetually unique. Her cuttings, like rivers and streams, bring refreshment to even the remotest locations; as her offshoots break new ground. And, when it comes to paste, even water works for her as she makes like a tree and leaves. She's the boss of moss who takes no flap about her sap.
Like her, I love to meander, rather than getting nowhere fast. Every day is a walk in the park or a day at the beach. Put me on her long and winding road, with or without music. She never ceases to assure me that life is about providing a healthy environment for hope to spring eternal.
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Never does she threaten to take over, though she can take back anytime she is so moved. Floods are her tears, hurricanes her shouts of distress, and tornadoes her frantic effort to recoil from being made both hot and cold at the same time. She can be your simple pleasure or your most troubling inevitability. Though often overlooked, she is not to be denied.
She warms to a battle of wits. We can only lie about her until, one day, we lie under her mantle. Yes, I love me and her; and will meander my way someday to rest in her arms, along with every other descendant of the name that means "from the earth".
