Those angel wings floated disembodied over my blog since its renamed resurrection, back in 2008.
My old workplace. My old work.
That image-- the headless, armless angel-- meant a lot to me. Nor hath Love's mind of any judgment taste; Wings, and no eyes figure unheedy haste…
That's not me anymore. I've taken my arms back, to hold my little boy. I've taken my eyes back, to practice seeing clear.
I've taken my fingers back, to type overwrought prose! With a reckless disregard for adverbs!
Not so long ago, I was spending virtual time with someone who hated makeover shows. I don't understand that. I love the chance to re-imagine myself, to shed a old skin for a new one that might fit better. And I love watching the look of wonder on someone's face when they encounter a reflection of someone lovely, someone worthy of respect-- someone they didn't know they were, or had forgotten.
So my blog is trying on some new clothes. I'm not worrying too much this time about finding the perfect look. I'm playing around to see what fits for the moment.
That approach seems apt.
This weekend, I'm doing some family/life jujitzu and skipping out on a dreaded visit with my in-laws and going clothes shopping instead. Sprog will have fun with his grandparents, and I'll finally get a chance to spend some of my gift-card money from Christmas. Hopefully I'll find some good stuff. If not, I'll keep looking.
A work in process...