There is a pink elephant in the room. Not a pale, washed out pastel pink. But a deeply blooming rosy pink, hovering somewhere between mauve and mulberry and magenta. This elephant, wonderful creature that she is, simply walked into my bedroom the other day. She walked in, pulled herself up a chair, set up her easel and her inks and started to paint these incredible black on white landscapes. I am left wondering if she will go back later to add color to them. Will she be around that long?
I know why she is here. I know what she represents. I have already broached the subject with the other person involved in this situation. It is quite difficult to ignore something so large in the room. Even if I cannot come right out and say, hey, this is why she is sitting there, all patient and calm, waiting for me to be able to say this one thing to you. At least I made certain to mention her presence, so when the time comes to say, hey, doesn’t that elephant paint the prettiest of pictures, I will have already laid the groundwork.
Not that that makes me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. It is hard to want something so very badly, knowing the other person doesn’t. But then again, that is me.
Pray for us, and our lovely pink elephant…
She really does have an exceptional talent with these landscapes she paints. It’s amazing…
