Shiny Objects

Today was a bad day, the kind of day that makes me want to build a fort out of blankets to hide in, that makes me want to eat Cadbury Cream Eggs for dinner and overpluck my eyebrows, that makes me want to push my face into the belly of a kitten, listen to Yaz, take big gulping breaths of the smell of crayons and draw a page full of very large eyes. (I did 3 out of 7 of those, but will let the specifics remain a mystery.)

It dawned on me just now that a few months ago Ozzy pulled the "c" key off my laptop, and then the shift key, so that I have to make a conscious effort if I ever want to make an uppercase c. A big c. See? Funny how life is sometimes. I don't have much to say today but I also don't want my last two posts to stand idle as they have been for the last week or so, full of portent. I don't want to make this thing a Thing, to capitalize on everything the way it is. The big C. There. That took a moment.

So instead I eat Honey Smacks and teach Ozzy to kiss me when I say give me some sugar and paint Zoey's toes in the colors of the rainbow and think shiny object, shiny object, shiny object...here are some such distractions from the last week, my capital everythings:

This is his trying-to-get-away-with-something face.

I call this one Driftwood Surfer. Check out the form. A total natural, if only she didn't mind getting water in her eyes.

The t-shirt says it all.

If I were better at math I would graph the curve of her cheek, the slope of her nose, the rise of those lashes to better understand the beauty of divine proportion and why her profile stops me every goddamn time.

xo,
S