I’ve had a tiny stalagmite of packages and letters forming in my studio for the past couple months. I’ve been paralyzed to open them, afraid that the kindness they contain will send me crumbling. I’ve felt such guilt, because each name on each piece I recognize and care about and love. I’ve wanted to send my thanks, but every time I’ve worked up the courage to start opening my mail I’ve faltered, merely holding the packages in my hands for a few moments before quickly stacking them back up and hurrying away. This morning I tried again and managed to open two. One was from my sweet friend @horsebike29 which contained a breathtaking life size and a miniature heart sculpture for my #mabsminiaturemuseum, and the other from my sister-in-art @busymockingbird containing a miniature paint palette tribute to my dad and an achingly beautiful note about a palettes symbolism of beginnings and endings. Needless to say I was blind before I even opened the second box and all I could do was hang my head, gasping with grief and gratitude at the love my friends had for my father. Thank you Vanina and Mica. I love you both and these words are inadequate expressions of what these gifts mean to me. https://www.instagram.com/p/Bx_BY9Ank-r/?igshid=12elpteg4b3gz
