The Next Page

I started sketching ideas at the dinner table the other night. They popped into my head, and I was afraid that if I didn't try to capture them, they would flit away and be lost. While pregnant, this phenomenon is called "baby brain", but I truly believe that it stays with you.

So I sketched. Not hurriedly but not with much finesse either. I tried to capture the images closely enough that they would make sense later.

Yesterday, I sat on the floor, pens and pencils in hand and began to sketch the image that pulled to me the strongest:



I held it up and asked my husband if he knew what it was. He made that face (you know, the same face men make when you ask them if your outfit makes you look fat), shrugged, and said, "I don't know. Hair?"

Yes. Good boy.

Phew! On both our parts. I had drawn hair and he had seen hair. True, it made no sense to him. Why would his wife be drawing hair? I don't know. Because she wants to, silly boy. Now, go back to watching SportsCenter...

No, wait. Why would I be drawing hair? Where is this picture going? What is she looking at? Is her hair being stirred by a slight breeze? A strong wind? Is this a happy picture? Or is she saddened by the site before her. Will there be zombies? (A question I must ask myself often to keep my interest.)

Have I had too much Dunkin Donuts coffee this morning and am I starting to get a little loopy?

Amen and cheers to that!