Thursday, June 9, 2016

SIGN LANGUAGE


Used to be words spilled across page after page from my palm to the nib of my pen, but then again that changed just like everything else in my world. Life happened in reverse . . . My cupped palm hoarded all the words I could not display. Written in indelible ink, they all washed away! That's what happens when you wash your hands after you pee. 



It's time to renew the lease on my post office box. I'll do it too. You won't believe all the Christmas gifts that need mailing for my "Christmas in July" mail campaign. 


Seriously. There was no Christmas spirit in Limnersville last year. I promise Christmas come July though. Just you wait and see.

Sincerely sincere,



Limner

P. S. Quantities are limited.










6 comments:

  1. If I were going to get a tattoo, I would beg you to make the design. You're a wonderful artist!

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    1. Oh! You are wonderful! Thanks for one of the most wonderful compliments ever. I have an unnatural dislike of needles but I like henna, only it takes too long, and I'm not good at being still long enough for the paste to dry. My inked palms fool people into thinking they're hennaed. When my creative outlets are limited I draw on my legs, thighs, hands . . . It's tribal!

      Thanks for seeing me as an artist. Trying to become one has been my greatest, longest quest. Thank you.

      Be well.

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  2. It's so good to have you back on the blogosphere. I missed you!

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    1. {{{Mrs. D!}}} Thank you. I want to come back. I've missed you and our mutual pleasures. Your mail meant a lot.

      Be well.

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    1. I'm ashamed to say there are still Christmas decorations on the mantelpiece; a bag filled with wrapping paper, tape, ribbons and tags are behind my chair, and gifts that need wrapping and mailing. So, why not do Christmas in July, right? Everything happens for reasons. OMG! The purple finch is in the backyard!!!

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