I’m a Dishcloth (in case you were wondering)


A friend of mine got this for Christmas from his sister with this note on it. I love it on so many levels, I don’t know where to begin. The simplicity of the gift–handmade– a given. Those are ALWAYS the best gifts, from the heart and hand. The note is the best…perfectly hand written along the line of the paper. Cut like a label on a work of art. Best of all the fact that he actually may not know what it was…it needed an explanation.

Modern Art!

So here we are–these 2 legged animals woven over time into the bag-a-bones we see standing in front of the mirror. The beings in the touch, felt, heard domain. What labels we put on ourselves everyday to identitfy the woven creatures we are, walking through our world. Scared? Inadequate? Powerless? Victim? Ugly? Too old? Too young? Hurt? Damaged? Hated? Dumb? Afraid of commitment? Weak? Invisible? on and on and on……

or do we just say what it is and put a period after it? Dishcloth? Boy? Girl? Tall? Short? Fat? Hungry? Tired? No meaning, no attachment, no limits.

Me? I’m a dishcloth….soaking up this life for everything it’s worth.

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