“Is not knowing Typist’s life theme?” Cal looked at shaggy pup and chicken in the woods. “She doesn’t have a theme. She’s stopped drawing us. How are we supposed to become a brand? She doesn’t know what to write about today. She doesn’t know how to save the world from enviromentaggeddon. What kind of 21st century woman is she? She’s supposed to bring home the bacon and fry it up in a pan!”
“That’s an oldie!” Thalia hummed the perfume commercial’s tune. “There is a higher power… and Typist is not it! That’s why we’re here… to inspire her to draw and write as an observer of life… all kinds of random, beautiful life. When she’s as flat as still water, we infuse her with bubbles!”
“She shows up. She’s present. She listens.” Urania added. “Whose to know what footprints she, and we, are leaving?”
A word from Typist:
I’m reading The Midnight Library by Matt Haig. The story is an excellent reminder that we create our lives through the choices we make.
As the unknown swirls around me, I remember that showing up with a smile and kindness is the currency of love and service.
Door mat: “PLEASE PLACE PACKAGES WHERE SPOUSE WILL NOT SEE THEM” 😁
That's a wonderful (whimsical?) chicken in the forest!
>>"As the unknown swirls around me, I remember that showing up with a smile and kindness is the currency of love and service."
Reminds me of one of my favorite poems. The Road Not Taken by Robert Frost.