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sublingua | |||||
| The heart with a mind of its own.(Be present.) | The mind with a heart of its own.(It's past.) | The dream that is your waking life.(Go there now.) | |||
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Is It Still Interesting?
I'm seriously tired this morning, and a lot remains to be done if I'm actually going to get the hell out of Dodge in thirty days. Today there is the inevitable amount of shopping. I still need shoes and bras and perhaps a few extra toiletries. I need another large bag. I need...shit, now I can't remember. Oh, yes, but Dorrie laid two eggs outside the casita. She seems to be completely ignorant of this fact now, so I'm afraid that they either aren't viable or they won't get much mothering if they are. I remember years ago, seeing the first Georgia O'Keefe painting that I ever really understood. I think it was called Three Eggs in a Pink Glass Dish. I read the title, looked at the painting. It was three eggs in a pink glass dish. And I understood very suddenly her feelings about being a woman who chose not to have children. I was in my early 20's when I saw this painting, and I haven't laid eyes on it since. Now that I am in my early 30's I am living out the reality of being a woman who chooses not to have children. It's not a thing that one has to look at directly really, but it is a thing that must be examined from time to time. The question must be asked: Is the decision still the right one? This is not what I set out to write about really. That's one of the joys of online journalling: You just sit down and see what comes out. Much, I imagine, like Dorrie's view of motherhood.
More lies:
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