The Dichotomy of Me

My mom, Shirley, taught me how to draw my first ruffle, and I was off and running. Princesses and dogs were embellished to a fare-thee-well with my new Crayola-gripped wrist flourish. I am a bit older now, and dipping into my father’s side of the family. Bobby, my dad, was my biggest cheerleader, showing me off in my frilly dresses and posting my art on the refrigerator. Family legend is that I drew an iron with a cord and the wall outlet, of which he was particularly proud. You see, my father and my grandfather worked with electricity, and built our house from scratch. They let me hold the trowel, play with the level, and hammer a nail or two. So I am now taking different gifts from both my parents and working with what I have. Which is a lot.

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