lines stitched:

(the fabric is white,
it just looks blue
because of the time of day
i finished stitching.)
(it does kinda’ match my mood, though.)


things line up.
sometimes clearly,
sometimes chaotically.
sometimes they line up just the way we wanted them to,
sometimes they line up in ways we could not have foreseen,
even in our wildest imagination.
sometimes they line up all nice and neat,
sometimes you have to put on your best creativity hat
and squint your eyes
to see that they line up at all.

sometimes a line is straight
sometimes a line is curved.

sometimes a line goes straight from point a to point b
sometimes a line loops back and forth all over itself
but still arrives somewhere.

sometimes a line is a letter
sometimes a line is a number.

sometimes a line is an object,
sometimes a line is a feeling.

sometimes the shortest distance between two points
is not, in fact, a straight line.

keep the lines open.
tow the line.
draw the line.
hold the line.

sometimes a line moves,
sometimes a line stays in one place for so long,
it becomes wallpaper.

sometimes a line tells a story,
sometimes a line show the way.

sometimes the line screams STOP
and trips you up if you don’t heed.

sometimes a line marks the sweet spot,
the finish line,
sometimes a line of demarkation warns us
to stay the hell away.

and that’s just the way it is,
as far as i can tell.

lines drawn:

5 84 1 erased


She is my developmentally disabled sister-in-law, Nancy,
and I am Jeanne, the woman who flat-out loves her.
Go here to start at the beginning and read your way current.
And there’s a pinterest board, too.