If 18 were a sweater it would most certainly be unwashed and smell of slight bonfire along with a hint odor of my friend's reefer addiction. A few dog hairs would be elegantly woven in the seems along with the comfort of mom's sewing. This sweater would be used for all of Chicago's 30 seconds of Summer, and throughout the seasons of fall, winter, and spring.
If you're normal, you're probably asking why is this girl comparing an age to a sweater? Yikes...Don't let her baby sit even a pencil. Well before you get all weirded out and go back on your (slightly) losery social media, know metaphors are (pardon my french) my effin' jam. There's just something about comparing breathless objects and infusing their non living bodies with something comparable. Understanding new ideas and concepts is where metaphors and good descriptions come into play for me. So to put those words into retrospect, I like metaphors who ooze unique description to better the foundation of what previously "was". My spin on writing comes through living with three older sisters (20, 22, 24) and truly one of a kind parents. Our family of six lived next to a pizza place on Baltimore Ave. in Hegewisch, IL. Being the youngest of four girls has given me what I like to call "humor". Half the time I'm really the only one laughing at my jokes, so feel free to come join in the seat next to me. All I have to do is brush off the dust, and popcorn crumbs.
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My CallingWriting for artists, as an artist. Va va voom. A new way of reading art news in Chicago // Denver. Thank you, dear ones. Archives
November 2020
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