Last night while I was at the library I scanned one of the art journal pages I’ve been working on.
Which is good, because I’m not going back to that library any time soon after the way they’ve treated my mother and me.
Originally the mammoth skeleton was because being stuck in a rut feels like straying into an antediluvian tar pit. But then our car got hosed, literally stranding us, and then we got trampled by the fossilized attitudes of the local queen bee and her minions.
So, you know. Check out my layers of meaning!
Maybe in a few million years whatever life still exists on this miserable planet will dig up my skeleton and find it educational.