This American Life

I have a white picket fence. It was never my dream possession or longed for house perimeter.  It just happened to be around my yard when I moved in to my Los Angeles home. Further setting me apart from the symbolic American norm is that what I love most about the fence is its lack of perfection ~ the peeling paint, the loose pickets and the incredible amount of yard grime that finds its way on top of every possible ledge.  To me that fence is more than a deterrent to neighborhood dogs and paparazzi ~ it has a life.  No, I’m not contact high on medical marijuana, I’m just crazy about metaphors.  And because when I look at that fence every day I am reminded that a life without layers of rippling texture, dirt and a little flexibility certainly isn’t as interesting as the ideally imagined one.  At least not for this American life.

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Comments
4 Responses to “This American Life”
  1. LMD says:

    Luv it!!!!!!

  2. Naima Blasco says:

    You are the best!! Good luck on your new adventure!
    Love…

  3. Kimberli says:

    Love it! Well said. Looking forward to your servings of lemon cake, my favorite :-).

  4. Stephanie Cozart Burton says:

    Beautifully expressed….and I AGREE

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