On the Affordable Healthcare Act and Art - all in a day
"I am sorry, I can't help", she says sliding my tax forms across the table. I don't remember if she wore glasses, but if she, did she would have been looking at me above the rims. "What is it that you do again?" I wince and opt to believe that the condescending tone was only in my imagination. Sylvan is sitting on my lap. "I am a mom", I say embarrassed. Was I blushing? I scrape a bit of dried clay off of my fleece, " I do lots of things." I am between day one and two of three days in the kindergarten classrooms at my daughter's elementary school. I had spent the last two nights in the studio rolling out clay slabs until the wee hours of the morning. What do I do? I am a non-entity on a tax return. I don't exist. I am invisible. I do things. The thoughts run through my head. I am productive. I consider myself a valued member of my community. Really. I smile. "Well. Thanks for taking time out of your day t...