Sometimes There Are No Words

I have to do something on Monday.  I feel it is time.  I am looking forward to it and dreading it at the same time.  I have had a tumultuous couple of weeks and they are finally coming to a close.  I have realized that someone whom I thought was bad is actually good, and someone I've looked up to for a very long time, is actually quite toxic.  It's time I said goodbye to both.

I saw my mother today.  She brought us pet food and took us grocery shopping.  She also brought me something that I asked for, something I haven't seen in about 6 years.

In my Freshman year of High School I took Art.  One of the projects was to take a block of clay and turn it into a head.  While everyone else was making aliens and monsters, I just made a man's head.  I made him crying.  Then I hollowed out the inside, and the art teacher put it in the oven for firing.  A few weeks later we got them back and I painted my man purple, except for a single silver tear escaping his left eye.  It has survived these 20 years, and I hope it survives the next 20.

A few years after I made the purple head, I made two more clay heads on my own.  I made a bust og Garak, the Cardassian from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine, and a Ferengi.  I couldn't fire them in an oven, so I let them air dry.  Eventually I painted the Ferengi.  They only lasted about 6 years before they were knocked off a wobbly bookcase and shattered on the floor.  One day perhaps I will recreate them.