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.

Monday, March 22, 2010

Why Would Anyone Choose To Paint Their Face?

 Arly, that's my sweet new friend who has been taking care of me, has decided it's time for me to go out and see the big world I have missed all these years. I'm not too sure about that though. It would be one thing if I had a mask to wear, or if I could hide, but she wants me to go with her to be around children, and I am a bit reluctant to be honest. When she told me they were going to get their faces painted like mine, I perked right up and knew this was one adventure I couldn't miss. Maybe I wasn't the only one who looked....different.

Being naked, or let me clarify, going out with only my undies and socks and shoes, was just a tad hard to swallow, so Arly promised she would let me ride in her backpack so I could simply peak my head out now and then and watch the painting unfold. She also promised to get me some new clothes, but being in the ground for all these years has my personal taste and the clothing styles these days in somewhat of a tizzy. You folks dress so odd....at least for this old soul. 

Besides worrying about the clothes, to me, this face painting on children seemed a little strange. I knew my face looked like no other face I had ever seen, and I couldn't imagine why other kids would want their faces to look like mine. The anticipation was almost more than I could bare so I insisted I would only go if she promised me no one would make fun of me. I hope she is right, that no one will, I just couldn't handle being laughed at today. 

As we pulled up to the building the air was brisk and the wind was blowing the candy striped tents all over the place.  For a moment I got the feeling that the event would be canceled which wouldn't really break my heart, but no, they moved the painting station inside so off we went. I kinda liked being in her bag, able to watch people without them knowing. I had forgotten how different people looked, with their hair color and strange shoes, not to mention some even had shiny metal things stuck to their teeth. It was as if they had gold type writer keys replacing their beautiful smiles, and I wondered if that was a fancy way of hiding rotted teeth. Arly said those were called "grills" and some younger kids enjoyed wearing them. I had to give that one some thought. 

Balloons were everywhere and I wasn't fond of them, so I made sure to stay tucked in away from the strings. As we sat down I began to see the smiling faces of children walk past me, all full of life, and for a while I was very sad. It made me miss my angel face and friends from long ago. One little girl sat down to be painted and she asked if they could paint her a blue butterfly on her cheek. Blue.....oh, she would look like me. I quietly unzipped the bag a little more and peeked out, just enough so she wouldn't notice me. Her skin was beautiful, all young and fresh, just like mine used to be. But when she turned her cheek to face the wall, I saw a long, jagged scar just below her eye. It didn't seem to bother her at all, and it gave me hope that maybe, just maybe, I wouldn't be picked on if I showed my face.  

Just as soon as I got the courage to come out I heard this horrible gasp just behind my right shoulder and a young lady was pointing at me asking, "What's up with her face?" I sunk down as far as I could in my bag hoping I could hold my breath, turn purple, and blend in with the fabric covering my body and disappear. Arly came to my rescue and explained how she found me, and that not everyone has a perfect face, but that I was beautiful. My heart began to heal a little bit and I knew that at least to her, and to myself, I was beautiful. I guess it would take a little bit more time to prove that to the world. 

When we got home, I got a yellow butterfly painted on my face with some sparkly fairy dust on top. It was the highlight of my day. I wasn't sorry I went out though. My feelings were still a bit tender, but seeing all those children today made me feel like it was only yesterday that I was sitting in the lap of my angel face playing dress up. That reminds me....I'm still half naked, gotta go see if that can be rectified.


 

1 comment:

Mojo Writin' said...

Looking forward to seeing what clothes you choose, Baby. Yeah, I'm 'of an age' and I have to agree... some of the clothes worn today are downright odd, to say the least... and I've even worn some of 'em! *wink*