Wednesday, May 04, 2011
My mother doesn't care about trends or fashion anymore. She's just taking care of, or rather let live things she's fond of.
Like this young ceramic guy with a face from her childhood.
Once he throned on her mantlepiece all brown without scars, moss or other signs of a lived life.
Then he fell to the floor and went to pieces, but his charming face was still intact.
My mother placed him on the chimney of our home made (hers and mine) fireplace in the secret garden. Every spring he's got more "freckles", but his enigmatic smile and the mocking glimpse in his eyes becomes more and more apparent year by year.
Boy out of time, but in our hearts.