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.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Visiting An Art Gallery Makes Me Feel At Home!


Evidently, I am not the only one who has a thing for paints. Arly, who I am becoming quite fond of, seems to be an artist. There are buckets of paints all over the place, random brushes here and there that seem to have lost their way back home, canvases stacked behind corners, just peeking out, and so many books about art she could start her own library. It's such a strange place, but lovely just the same, and living here makes me feel at home, with my blue face and strange new skin. If I didn't know better, I would almost think I could be a piece of art too, but then again, I am just a doll. 


After our trip the other day I was just a teeny bit hesitant about going back out into that big world, to be seen, to be laughed at and at first, after Arly said we would be going to an art gallery, I hid behind the record player hoping she would forget I was there. I used to do that a lot with my Angel Face, we would hide behind her bed, in her closet, or back behind the old shed hoping no one would see us. I always got the feeling she was hiding for real, because she was scared, but we never talked about it, at least not that I can remember right now. I didn't have that much luck with Arly, she seems to always know where I am. 


When we pulled up to the gallery I noticed that there were large windows and just inside, almost like a rainbow had burst all over the walls, I saw more colors than I had in my entire long life. It was beautiful! Arly had told me that no one there would laugh, that they would find me beautiful, and she was right. Everyone I met just oohed and aahed over me, which for a beauty like myself, made my head swell just a bit.

At the end of one of the counters, just past where I was standing, my eyes landed on the most fascinating pile of colors and fabrics. They were piled up and draped across a strange, stiff dog who must, at one time in his past life, have loved to parade around like a movie star. He was still doing a decent job now, even though he was acting all stoic and uppity. It made me laugh a little to myself because I had news for him, he was a dog! He was a dressed up DOG!

Once I regained my composure from laughing I couldn't help but place my hand gently on the fabric, which was soft and warm, and for a minute it made me think of my Angel Face's hair. When I thought about my own hair, and how much I had missing, I draped a few strands around my face and pretended I had beauty parlor locks that matched my "looks like the sky" complexion. I couldn't explain it, but I felt at home here, not like the home where I lived, but the home inside myself, the one that tells me I am whole and right where I should be. Time hasn't been my friend it seems, but this feeling, I prayed, would last forever. 


Arly told me her best friend knits those scarves, that's what all the fabric is, these fascinating, one of a kind, like me, scarves. And just as I was ready to bury myself in all of them, an eye caught my attention. Not just any eye, but one looking straight through my soul it seemed....


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