Sometimes I just sit in my home “office” staring at my wall of collected musical instruments. I don’t play any of them. I just like them.
It seems nostalgic, yet, real.
It started with a casual garage sale purchase, but now I want a mural of music making contraptions. Granted, most are non-functioning wall hangers, but when I stare at them, I wonder, imagining the sound of each instrument as deaf music flows to hearing ears.
Whether a solo, or a symphony of organized noise produced by metal, wood and strings, sometimes I hear it. Continue reading Hear the Music
I bought a bust on clearance at Hobby Lobby. At 90% off I snatched the last one up like a large mouth bass after a Carolina rig.
It wasn’t until I got home that I realized my new purchase was damaged at the shoulder. In fact, it had a really big hole in it. At first I started to leave it like it was because looking straight at it, you couldn’t see anything wrong. But turn it ever so slightly, and there was the gaping hole.
With a little bit of plastic cement and some poor, ragged patchwork, the hole was fixed, even though it’s obvious it’s been repaired. After a couple of coats of spray paint, it was all the same color and not as blaringly obvious.
Now it’s on my desk in our home office. The pleasant, gently smiling woman looks like all is good, but on close examination, there’s “patchwork” hidden in plain sight. Continue reading People Patchwork