In this weird moment, this non-celebratory 2020 moment, I think I’ll post this again for the 11th time, because this year, more than ever, I like remembering this little girl. “Memory as Myth”…the title of my exhibit at the Hallie Ford Museum of Art this summer, if such a thing is possible…is part of this little girl’s story.
I published this on my birthday in 2009, but I still think it tells my story so let’s go again!!
Tomorrow is my birthday and I’ve attained a certain age. I have plans, things to do, places to go. But today I’m looking back.
(I tried to cut my own bangs–oops.)
For a few years after “the war,” I was an only child. We lived in an apartment in Chicago where I played.
I REALLY wanted to be a “cowgirl.” I dreamed of the far west. I idolized Hopalong Cassidy.
While I was running around the streets pretending to be this and that, my parents were building a new house and having a new baby.
I noticed immediately that the driveway made a PERFECT stage:
Time passed and many new houses were built filling up the street, new brothers arrived.
Eventually they all moved into a bigger house, but by then I was gone, starting a new life. I moved to the far west to be a cowgirl.
Here’s to another year of fun, out on the ranch!!!