Tuesday, July 26, 2011

The Birth of Painting Clothes

Charcoal on paper

Francesco: "Mommy why is that sweater still hanging on the clothes line?"
Me: "Cause it is."
Francesco: " Is it yours?"
Me: "It isn't."
Francesco: "You should take it down it's night time now."
Me: "Let it hang just a little while longer."

It has hung there for 5 days now. A last attempt at trying to get it clean. It has hung through the rain and through the scorching heat and it has managed to remain unscathed even though a hundred or more birds have flown over it to get to the neighbor's feeder. It hangs with stains that can never be removed. They are permanent. Made by accident in the laundry the very first time it was ever washed. Hidden in a corner of the basement for months so no one would know. Thrown in the rental truck when we moved so no one would know.

No one knows.

One day I may decide to wear it even though it is enormously too large for me. I will wear it while painting and the ill marks will be accompanied by spatters of paint. Colorful, vibrant, and funny splatters of paint will pair up with the marks and it will be glorious and it will help create beautiful art. It will become my lucky sweater.

Until then though, I'll let it hang.

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