If this visit to Found Baby's musings is your first, welcome! Found Baby writes about her everyday adventures, about how she feels, thinks, and the challenges she faces living in a world so obsessed with beauty and perfection. As she adjusts to life out of the ground, she can't help but recall bits and pieces of her life before she was buried, and those memories are heartbreaking. It might help if you start from her first post back in March 2010, and read backwards to learn the story about how she was found. If you are simply reading the current post, may her story of survival and hope touch at least one of you. She believes there are no coincidences, and you landing on her blog isn't one either.
Welcome, no masks needed...........Found Baby.

Sunday, March 28, 2010

Spring Comes to the Paper Wasp Gallery!



As Arly drove down Dauphin Street she let me roll the window down so I could feel the wind in my face, and it felt fine! It was Saturday, which meant, as far as I could tell, that we were going back down to the park, which she called Cathedral Square, to spend the afternoon at the Paper Wasp. At first, when she told me that last week, I gave her a look like she was one brick short of a full load, but then she explained to me that it was a gallery, full of art and books, and I gave her the benefit of the doubt. 

I could honestly pitch a tent in that gallery. When I walked in, I immediately felt like a cool, cotton turquoise blanket had been wrapped around me. Maybe it was the fact that those turquoise blue walls made my blue face seem extra pretty, I'm just not sure, but I knew I loved it. Along the walls were whimsical paintings and artwork from the story, Peter and the Wolf by Prokofiev. I remembered listening to that story with my Angle Face on her record player, as she held up the book to show us the pictures. It made me feel close to her, like it was only yesterday.


Along the shelves were these interesting books. Arly said that Wayne, that's who owned the shop, was a book binder, and I laughed and told her he was one, peculiar binder upper. I had never seen books like these, all weaved with linen thread, and some even had these sharp, pointy shells sticking out of them, which she said were sea urchins. I couldn't imagine why anyone would want to put a sea urchin on a book, but the longer I looked at them, and realized that they were one of a kind, like me, I took a fancy to them. 


Everywhere I looked my eyes were filled with beautiful things. I took a deep breath in and soaked up all the art vibes I felt around me, which made my face feel like it was best of show. When a customer came in Arly placed me up on the counter and I quickly got nervous, because I didn't want to be seen, not after the other day. I quietly made my way around an old, twirly letter press machine, and came face to face with the most gorgeous Gerber daisies, as peach as my bottom used to be and probably a lot softer.  I knew they would be the perfect place to hide behind, so I snuggled up extra close and pretended my face was a flower blossom too, and just as pretty. 


Arly said that it was spring in Mobile, and the flowers were beginning to bloom. I looked at her funny and told her I remember daisies like these, but I couldn't put my finger on just why. That bothered me. A few minutes later, I tied my satin lined bow on my head, so I could look like the diva that I felt I was, and headed for the window. Carefully, I crawled up onto the pebbled shelf that lined the window seal and stood looking out at the families playing in the park. 

There were couples who seemed hopelessly in love walking by and a few times there were children who would walk up to the window and just look at me. At first that made me uncomfortable, but when I remembered how I felt hiding in the flowers, I just pretended I was still a beautiful little blue flower standing tall, and I wasn't afraid anymore. 



A little girl waved to me as she rode by in her stroller, and I waved backed. It gave me the thought that since it was spring, maybe there was hope that people would find things more beautiful. I closed my eyes and made a wish, that one day, I would be as special as the art on display in this place. Until then, I would have to pretend to be my own piece of art, which I choose to call......"Roots As Blue Blossoms", in honor of spring....of course.


Next Post



1 comment:

Mojo Writin' said...

Love the blue bow, Baby. Could you pass a message to Arly for me, please? I know I like people to tell me when I make a mistake, and I hope she won't mind either! In the second paragraph it says Angle instead of Angel, and in the third paragraph from the end it says 'seal' instead of 'seat'...
Now...onwards to the next instalment!