It's Mother's Day.
In Her New York, it was not a day celebrated in a conventional manner. That's because in Florence's mind everyone was a mother...
So. Happy Mother..... Day.
Originally post Mother's Day 2011
**
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.
Waiting on a Friend on St. Mark’s Place
-
The year was 1981. The Rolling Stones entered the decade still considered
the greatest rock-and-roll band in the world. But the industry was
changing. Th...
17 hours ago


No comments:
Post a Comment