I take baths regularly. Almost every night. I think and dream, read, and take blissful refuge from the demands of being mother in the hot, hot water.
The image I recall when I look at my feet.
Often times, I look down at my two feet near the stopper. Last night it was to think about how I really need to remove the toe nail polish that is now only partway on about 7 of my toenails. (But I didn't.)
I also almost always think about Frida Kahlo, which gets me thinking about mortality. About what happens when you die. About what it would feel like to have a painful disease and be stuck in bed for the majority of my life.
And to still persist in making life a vibrant celebration. That is what Frida Kahlo means to me.
The image which is the source of the quote above, "Feet, what do I need you for when I have wings to fly?"
When I was 26 I went to her house in Mexico City. I was traveling alone and arrived there by subway. I was struck by how colorful everything was, how prolific.
I wish I could make my home an inviting escape for all who visit. I wish I could create something that reflects the life I live, that will persist after I die.
Her loveliness, in color.
See what I mean... morbid. But sometimes it is worth sharing these kinds of thoughts. I think death reminds us how lucky we are to be among the living. And I hope any readers of this know that I mean it in the kindest sense, and do not mean to make light of the very real pain of grieving a lost loved one.