A PAINTING FOR JOSS WHEDON
TRANSCENDENCE
I stared at my odd-shaped canvas for weeks. I waited for its instructions. I itched to mix colour, but the canvas sat white and mute.
I distracted myself with housework and TV. I started the Firefly series. Minutes in, I dropped my dishcloth and ran to the paints. Colours called. I mixed. I painted. The inspired spirit emerged on canvas while a moral play unfolded a future glimpse before me. I smiled and swayed to the music of story and truth in adversity. Colours danced.
I distracted myself with housework and TV. I started the Firefly series. Minutes in, I dropped my dishcloth and ran to the paints. Colours called. I mixed. I painted. The inspired spirit emerged on canvas while a moral play unfolded a future glimpse before me. I smiled and swayed to the music of story and truth in adversity. Colours danced.
So of course, this painting is for
Joss Whedon.
His name was on my tongue before I'd painted a stroke.
Joss Whedon.
His name was on my tongue before I'd painted a stroke.
Now, to make sure she finds him.
