Ephemeral Art,
or, a greeting across time.

My children surprise me, sometimes. —Well, that is one of the gifts of being a parent. Having read so many stories of parents who projected their own dreams upon their children, I presumed that any I had wouldn't be interested much in art—I figured they'd go for sports or business or something for which I have little passion. As it happens, neither do they, and f2tY enjoys art—and so does f2tE, though performing over visual.

But neither one can stand to have me teach them. "You make it so boring, Mom!" or some variant is generally what I hear. So I've learned to accept whatever art they make that comes my way, and it often is quite non-traditional.

thread, yoga mat. April of 2006.

And, like their childhoods, ephemeral.

photo 20060414, file created 9apr08.