.WE are kin, or kith.
don't you know?
Odd how the pages of a narrative tell US our own Stories.
is the BEAUTY of our friendships that exist on some PLAIN in the ether.
ever since this page was born- it has drawn me in- challenging Me.
I do not understand why IT has drawn unwarranted scorn.
mayBe it is that Challenge that some do not embrace, That knowing.
if you think You know it ALL-You will skim, because You don't.
If you do not understand, you dismiss?
this posting,will haunt Me for some time.
Elisabeth's lovely painting haunts me with a
warmth and gaiety with which a house can shel-
ter a family. All my little torments have ex-
pired. We meet in the present, do we not, be-
cause there are people we love, to be looked
I was the "baby" as they say in the SOUTH.
My brother-3 years older "the middle child" was my keeper.
we spoke our own language, what were we saying?
I feel sure it was all about who we were in past lives-knowing as brother and sister in this one, our roles and genders reversed in what came before. we have forever known each other.
our parents let us chatter with no understanding but always embracing us for our uniqueness-
but Yes, we were questioning all the time.
Stunning really to come upon this house today.
LOVE offers itself Up to US everyday. It is up to US to understand.
this house painted in Red, and Blue offer glimpses I rarely find anywhere, unless it is a mirror that hangs on the door in my bedroom.
Elisabeth Baysset painting