We wove around the Old Ragsdale Building
Among and in
And like ants on the way to the fried chicken from The Pig at a picnic
We were searching for
Around a million different ways to see a world.
Hanging displayed sitting displayed whispering shouting
Every piece at a different pitch
Perfect for its medium.
But I was there for Agnes . And I was there for Agnes’ child.
A life can take up a whole back wall of a tobacco building in its telling,
And still leave out whole parts. How many panels does it take to capture fully
Close to ninety years.
Like a camera, painter artist daughter friend
Makes permanent a life.
Elegance and wit wind around the strokes color, pigmentation teaches in tones of peach.
Stand back and breathe in, a girl becomes a wise matriarch
Just paces down the old brick sits
An anteater eating of all things a colony of gigantic ants beside voter registration.
This is Artfields and this is what they do, documentarians of our lives,
One studied nine breasts, documenting differences.
But I was there for Agnes and “All The In Between.”
To see a hundred ways to see a world,
But driving all this way to know the love of one,
Daughter for her dying mom.
Agnes would laugh at her juxtaposition of a life,
So close to
Well an anteater. And I know because I know
And the ways she sees all the in between,
The panels of a life.
To discover more of my friend and her work, visit lauriemcintoshstudio dot com. And pick up her book Agnes’ life “All The In Between – My Story of Agnes” (Amazon, Barnes and Noble and at MuddyFordPress.com )