Impossible to Say

If you knew her then, you can hear the jingle of her bracelets and the glassy ring of brushes in the water cup, and the tin foil rustle of colors mixing; you can smell the cigarette smoke and freshly opened paints and possibly Chamade or Arpege; you know how she held her hand just like that, you remember the tv and radio out of frame, and possibly a fuschia can of TaB.  But mostly, if you know who you are now, you know that when you knew her then, she was trying – trying so very, very hard.


7 thoughts on “Impossible to Say

  1. So correct, that I dare say, there is very little else to say! …except for the TRYING part! Not enough words for that. But that’s what made it such fun! (and it was.)

  2. Brenna,
    I love this photograph and your beautiful words! Oh and those bracelets…..and the way she is holding the brush…..and especially her expression……love it.

  3. Such a perfect memory. I’m just getting time to read through all these wonderful posts that each speaks to me in different ways, but none perhaps as much as this picture. I can almost hear The Midnight Special in the background, and picture the two little angels pretending to be asleep everytime we peeked in. Thanks for your wonderful words and for being you! Lots of love, Pats

  4. Pingback: Booked For Christmas – Have Yourself a Golden Little Christmas | what is beautiful remains

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