incompatible temperaments

Remember when we went to the gallery and found the landscape? You said the piece was little more than primordial bits, shapes, lines, surfacing from chaos, like fragments of us. I suggested it was integrated, balanced, and far more ordered than confused. We placed it over the mantle. Now, in the divorce, we each grapple for ownership of it, the pictified essence of incompatible temperaments.

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cracked egg

The year she stopped eating and working and talking, she devolved, draping cloth over mirrors, not brushing her teeth. She went from Emily Dickinson to Sylvia Plath to Anne Sexton, reading their work over and over, copying their words. A day came. She reached for a pencil... cracked egg, hot griddle. Her first poem filled two pages. She now eats oatmeal and wanton soup from the Chinese restaurant.

forgotten, confused

Her recollection was vague, faded. Had it ever happened? Possibly a dream, forgotten, confused. He looks at her. She should ask. Do you...? Did you...? His blink washes away a tear. She remembers.

Blue-plate Pears

Acrylic/Collage 30" x 40" SOLD Painting was purchased within 24 hours!!!! More to come. Watch this space.

Linda A. Lavid

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