Going Green

No, this isn't Claire's latest work (hers is much better); it's a picture I found in the bottom of the last box in the deepest recesses of the closet I just spent a week cleaning out. On the back it says, "self portrait, Mona Helen" and there is a note from my Grandmother to my mother, commenting on the good weather and wishing good health.

I spent a long time sitting on the floor, contemplating the color choices I made when I was three. It's true, green is one of my favorite colors, but not generally a skin tone I admire. Maybe I'd just seen the Wizard of Oz and was feeling empathy for the Wicked Witch of the West (or maybe it was a portent of my future personality); who knows? Probably, there wasn't a large color selection and I lacked the imagination to mix my own.

Stranger than my funny painting, though, is the fact that my Grandmother decided to send it my mother, and my mother kept it all those years. I miss them both, and that makes me more blue than green.