Time passes, and the hurt leg saga continues. I drew these little pictures of my husband as he sat in an armchair, watching a Mission Impossible episode as part of a TV marathon one of the channels that shows old shows was doing – last night. I will tell you that he is able to come downstairs now and it’s such a pleasure to have him back here, returned from his upstairs exile.
I did several little pictures and was not satisfied with any of them in total, maybe; but taken together, well, you will see a portrait of where the hurt leg is on January 15, last night.
When Hannah saw Zoe walking up the street towards her, she realised that it had been ten years since she’d last seen her. It spurred a feeling deep inside her she hadn’t experienced in a long time; a feeling of competitiveness, a readying of the self to fight. Zoe had gotten fat since school, really fat. Hannah knew she too had gotten fat, but not that fat. Zoe must’ve just gotten fat; fat-fat, not pregnant-fat like she had.
The old frenemies made eye contact. Hannah remembered how competitive they used to be. Walk on, walk on, walk on, walk on.
‘Hannah Childs! Why, it’s been years?’ Zoe’s face ballooned into a grin.
‘That’s not you, Zoe Howell, is it?’ Hannah feigned amazement too at their chance encounter, while comparing the thickness of Zoe’s thighs to her own. ‘What are you up to these days?’
More impressions of how things are going with my husband’s hurt leg – through art and poetry. New to the saga? Here is: Chapter 1 Chapter 2
This afternoon my husband made his first visit to the physical therapist. He’s doing well for the stage he is in – the incision is healing and he is stronger. But it is still too soon for him even to touch his left foot to the ground and the leg is locked straight in the brace. I am nervous about taking him outside; today is the first day he’s even been downstairs after the surgery a week ago.
I loaded him into the car (sitting sideways on the back seat) and headed for the PT office – one mile from home. Fantastic! It’s a nondescript place in a shopping center – utilitarian and plain, but my husband was very happy with the session.
I drew a couple of sketches while I was waiting for him. I was using my 8″ x 8″ sketchbook. First, here is my view (from the waiting area) of the jumble of equipment and other PT accoutrements:
Then I did a couple of smaller scenes – one of a lady on a treadmill and another of coats hanging on the rack. These two I put on the same page, not wanting to waste paper – here is the whole page:
and here is the treadmill lady alone:
and the coats alone.
Once again, I found putting pen to paper helped me stay calm (I am afraid I will break my husband if I am not really careful, so I feel the responsibility of taking him out of the house!). And it also helped the time pass. Plus, every drawing improves my skills.
Lastly, I am continually amazed at how sketching forces me to notice details. There is always a little more to see, if you keep looking.
These ATC’s were made in June, 2016. In constructing them, I took cards that had some sort of paint or collage background and found these people – I used a pen to bring them out, and there you have it – new friends? neighbors? workmates? fellow commuters? I could go on and on…