A Real Artist

So, my best friend from second grade only lived in Utah for one year. Her dad was here working; they were from New York. Her name was Annie. She and I bonded over identical Miss Piggy lunch boxes. It was some sort of sign.

Although we exchanged addresses and promised to write, we were, unfortunately, only eight-years-old (read: not very good at keeping in touch). Years later, after the Internet invaded our home, I would look her up online from time to time. But, I never found anything.

Enter Facebook.

Oh, so terrible in many ways, but for one thing I will forever be grateful. Through Facebook, I found Annie again. We've picked up our friendship as if time never elapsed.

Always creative, Annie has stayed true to her nature. She's a wonderful artist. Earlier this year she sent me a personalized piece. Can you believe that? Art made just for me? Like, about me?

It is personal in many ways. There is a picture of the lunchbox. There is a picture of my dog. There is the jacket to one of my all-time favorite books. There are pictures of the actors in my favorite shows and movies. There is a crochet monster and a sock monkey. I like to think, though I do not know for sure, that the two women in the bottom right corner represent her and me, out having a fabulous time in NYC. Someday...

Annie has also sent many things for my children, things they love. We decided to send her a package back. For it, Tessa painted some pictures. Tessa was really proud of her work, and asked if I thought Annie would like them. And if Annie did, maybe she'd declare Tessa a "real artist," just like herself.