Beside my bed hangs an odd painting in a yellow frame. I bought it after walking away disciplined and empty-handed from the cluttered and (I told myself) overpriced antique store that used to stand kitty- corner to our apartment. I bought it after nights and days of seeing it when I closed my eyes. I am so so glad that I bought it.
The signature, legible upon squinting, reads 'GOSS'--this isn't what captured my heart. Its the kite.
Flown by a red and black smudge of a kid on a hill, this kite flies absurdly high. Its awkwardly painted, thick-black string takes up most of the painting, actually. It is strange and a bit clumsy--and completely charming, captivating. Beautiful.
This lovely, long painting reminds me that creating is humbling and human and divine in the same stroke. In it, I find the heartening reminder that mistakes can be magic--they do not always need to be forgiven. Hanging by my bed--where my love and I settle down to dream, it offers me peace of a human sort. Hand Made With Love By Goss.
