This morning I find myself trapped in an art galleria of which I have no recollection of making the pilgrimage to attend. As I walk though this art galleria, I find Ikea foam mattresses aligned in a Stonehenge-like creation. I see 3 busy artists making this creation and one proudly calls it a fort.
I move past this masterpiece in search of the goodie table where they may have snacks this early in the morning. It turns out that the Lord and Master of this Galleria has hidden the Tollhouse Chocolate Chip cookies in the cupboard with the drinking glasses for milk. I sneak a few, including a few extra for the artists to tip them in exchange for their silence. I'm hoping their silence will last a long, long, time.
I make my way back down the hall where I found myself in this strange land when I woke up. I consider what I might do in this land and it occurred to me that my laptop made it here as well. I open it up and immediately one artist senses the electronic transmission of a customer who has found something else other to do than admire the art in the galleria. I immediately get the most personal customer service.
In comes an eclectically dressed artist wearing tousled hair and a tattered tutu, along with a smudge of chocolate on her face. She displays the latest creation from the Head Artist: a sketch of a prince handing flowers to a princess. Inside this piece of art, designed after a greeting card, is the personal scribblings of this chocolaty artist. I'm instructed to read a language I do not understand. Once I do, she dismisses herself and then returns with more art and unintelligible notes. This goes on for quite a while.
In the meantime, I am trying to open up my blogger and make a post about the week. These artists don't seem to understand that I woke up in the wrong place! I was expecting my bedroom and maybe a morning's cup of coffee, but somehow I cannot locate either one of them. I find myself trapped in a galleria of screaming artists trying to reshape each other's faces, and rearrange each other's toys, and somehow customize their books by removing pages...
Alas, one of the artists needs a diaper change and I am brought back to my world of reality. The world I know in a 2 bedroom condo filled with two adults and three children (soon to be four). The world of unnumbered obstacles. A place where the word "silence"doesn't even appear in the dictionary because no one knows what it means. However, I fondly recall that this place has a large bathtub, and a noisy fan that drowns out most high-pitched screams of beings who are tortured within the rooms surrounding it...and I smile...because I'm going to go hide in this place that I haven't been for awhile.
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