Collage

On New Year's Eve, we attended a Zoom gala of local performers including local artist Margaret Shipman. During an interlude between singers and guitars and banjos, it was fun to see her paintings and collages of flowers, her mandalas of found flora.

We try to find meaning in the collage of our lives, the collage of sense impressions that arrive and leave every moment. 

There's only one thing we can be sure of: Everything is changing.

Forsythia Are Blooming

In this lovely warm autumn, my forsythia are blooming. Not many blossoms, but a few yellow flowers lost against the background of brown leaves.

The day my neighbor Esther, 94, dropped dead in her driveway, she had a custard sitting on her kitchen counter waiting to go to a sick friend. Esther bloomed until the last moment.

In her last few years, she made collages out of pressed flowers and had them made into notecards. Even in her 90s, she found a creative outlet.

The end of the year is coming. The end of our years is coming.

Collage by Esther Falk