These little lines on virtual paper, these meaningless scribbles that came out of the end of my pencil at 5 am on a summer morning,
after wailing and headaches took place on my living room couch,
these little lines will be neat rows of wooden sticks at the end of this week.
A few weeks after that they will be touchable walls that contain the life of a woman. They will be the backdrop to her family feasts, they will watch while she puts on makeup in the mornings. They will tremble slightly as doors are banged in them by visiting nephews. They will host works of art. Hopefully they will bring happiness.
They may have been warped and mutated by money and urgency and misguided construction desicions, they may not entirely resemble this drawing in their final, cool-white-plastered form, but they are
mine. And they
mean something!
So, today I finished my very first construction drawing entirely of my own design.
Soon it will actually be built.
And that feels pretty damn good.