When I was younger I would twist little things (faces, cats, the virgin mary) into anything bendable (twist ties, pipe cleaners, found pieces of telephone wire) and give them to my mom. She loved them, but, you know, she was my mom.
She'd always tell me "there's something to this" and encourage me with art books and Alexander Calder documentaries. But I'd roll my teenage eyes at her and say "you can't make a living twisting wire."
Well, turns out she was right after all. There is something to this. And I was wrong. You can make a living twisting wire.
Mom's no longer here, stupid cancer, but with every bend of the wire, I think of her love and support and how we're all capable of accomplishing dreams much larger than ourselves. I've learned the universe is too big and too amazing to question. And anything is possible if someone believes in you, even if that someone isn't always you.
Love you, Mom. Thanks.
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