Friday, February 16, 2007


12" X 17", pen and ink on paper

"Just a few minutes away from my boys and not knowing what they are doing make me worry to hell."
"But they are safely home with their nursemaid."
"Well yeah... but still, I am a mother. Only mothers can worry as much as I do about my children."

I surrender to her protestations against staying for a while and chitchat a bit more. She worries much for her children - two frisky young boys. Little beings with nuclear reactors beating inside them. Raucous, energetic, untiring tykes that can bend to his knees a full-grown man. Yet, I wonder how she can manage to have her hair intact and not go nuts with these bundles of explosive energy.

Where do women like her get their drive? How do they even manage to keep strong when faced with the struggle of keeping their lives -and their children - together? How, under heaven's name, can they even carry a family on their own?

Mothers, they're full of mysterious strength.


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