Maybe I try so hard to help her become an artist because I was too scared to become one myself.
I watch as the hours of work dwindle to nothing for her and understand how she has to prepare cheap home meals to make ends meet. She's thinking about becoming a waitress, and I plead her to find ways to get paid doing design. But she tells me, "I have to survive."
"Would you like something to drink?" she'll ask them, then return, placing glasses onto tabletops with a masterful hand.
Posted by ruth at September 17, 2003 10:27 AM
I watch as the hours of work dwindle to nothing for her and understand how she has to prepare cheap home meals to make ends meet. She's thinking about becoming a waitress, and I plead her to find ways to get paid doing design. But she tells me, "I have to survive."
"Would you like something to drink?" she'll ask them, then return, placing glasses onto tabletops with a masterful hand.
Posted by ruth at September 17, 2003 10:27 AM
Comments
She's alive!
Posted by: One Bad Pig on September 20, 2003 01:13 AM
Posted by: One Bad Pig on September 20, 2003 01:13 AM
You know, Mitchell, I think it's been too long, and I have forgotten what it was like to feel the rawness of life and just live.
You don't know how much I needed that reminder. Perfect timing.
Posted by: ruth on September 22, 2003 04:49 PM
You don't know how much I needed that reminder. Perfect timing.
Posted by: ruth on September 22, 2003 04:49 PM
