Good Morning,

Hello Monday. Here’s a thought to kick off the week from one of the greatest artists of all time: 

“If people knew how hard I had to work to gain mastery, it would not seem so wonderful at all.”
-Michelangelo

I saw Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel ceiling and painting of The Last Judgment on a family trip to Italy when I was about 13. On that same trip we saw two of Michelangelo’s sculptures: the Pieta just inside St. Peter’s Basilica in Vatican City, and David in Florence. They are natural, beautiful, and express emotion that transcends the marble or the paint. Michelangelo rivals his contemporary Leonardo da Vinci in the claim of being the world’s greatest artist. 

Michelangelo's quote came to mind because the next blog is about grit.

Weekly Snippet
Speaking of being gritty, this Cutting Room Floor snippet is shared in the spirit of Mother’s Day. I wrote this last week:

This role of motherhood is funny because its intense when children are small, and then it’s an identity that shifts to standing alongside, instead of behind (encouraging) or in front (protecting). I recall one night when my young 7-year-old daughter, deeply struggling with our move across the country and family changes, told me fiercely as I was tucking her into bed, “I hate you. I hate you.” We were house-sitting at the time and staying in a lovely suburban home, more than likely reminding her of where we’d moved from. Silently, I got up and left the room for a few moments. She was in such anguish; she was a little girl - how could I expect her to be able to articulate the terrible tangle and complexity of how I had upended her life? I let a moment pass and then reentered the room and reached out to hold her close. She held me tightly back. I told her, “I love you.” 

I have another hug memory -- this one with my son. The body impression still lingers. I’d been gone on a business trip. I remember coming home and running up the stairs to the attic bedroom he and his sister shared. He was sitting on the edge of a desk, higher than his normal 4-feet and so the perfect height for me to fold perfectly into his 5-year-old hug, his sweet embrace so close. 

Eventually motherhood meant moving to the side to allow a young boy to become a strong man and a young girl a lovely, intelligent woman. 

I am working on the next blog but no promises on when it will be done. Hope you have a wonderful week!

 
 

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