Day Seventy-Eight/Image Seventy-Eight

“Afloat” Image. Ceres Gallery. New York. Solo Show.

My daughter gets all dressed up for homecomings and parties. Everything is agonized over. Makeup for professional photographs done by a so-called professional makeup artist, only to be redone in the car mirror. Dresses tried on and captured by an Iphone from every angle to be reviewed and texted to her friends before considering. Hundreds of dresses to be hung up in the dressing rooms of many many stores. All nice, hip and trendy, smart, elegant, perfect, in fact. All fitting perfectly, but something not quite right each time.

Until the unanimous report comes in that alas! This dress is perfect (My daughter says, you have to be careful shopping with other girls because they will tell you a dress looks good on you just so they can look better than you at the dance. Her grandmother, who is ninety-two, agrees with her.)

I get tired of all her shopping and primping. Put raspberries in your hair, my daughter. You are only this young for a minute.