Florence at her mother's apartment in Knickerbocker Village
These days, I am amused at the accolades on Mother's Day that often include the passing down of make-up tips and the special shopping trips for new clothes.
These were not the gifts Florence gave my sister or me. And although I inherited her love of lipstick, it's what is not found in a tube or a store that reminds me of my mother. It is, instead, a ferocious, unending, tenacious, gut wrenching, miserable exhaustion, banging-head-against-wall, exhilarating 'til-death-do-us-part relationship with the work of an artist.
Personally, there are days I would have been just fine with a new dress or some blue eyeshadow.
OTD in 1979 the Skidmore House becomes a Landmark - On this day in 1970, the Landmarks Preservation Commission designated landmark status to the dignified […] (Visited 3 times, 6 visits today)
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