Grief is a strange thing, indeed. It shapes our existances in so many fashions. Grief alters, reroutes, splinters, and regroups. It comes in many disguises. It ebbs and fades, but is a constant partner once you’ve met it, until you draw your last breath. Grief is there in some way or another.
I didn’t mention it, but my aunt came to visit last week, just for the day. We don’t see her as much as we used to. I won’t go into all the why-fors, as they stem from sad circumstances. So, while we’re slightly estranged from each other, there’s no bad blood, so to speak.
But, she did stop for a short visit and The Sister & I were elated to see her. It was a good visit. She sent The Sister a thank you note for a painting she was given, and in the note she supplied a link to a magazine that her house was set at as a feature last October. It’s really that house I want to talk about, because well… I helped to build it.
So, my city hosts this thing every June called Festival South, well at least for the last five or so years. It’s this month long festival with various free and paid artistic events held in different places throughout the city.