We learned about "vanitas" yesterday in watercolor class. It is an artistic expression of the fleeting quality of life, the inevitable passage of time, and yes, death awaits. The Dutch had those amazing still lifes with an overturned glass, or a piece of fruit in the process of being peeled until the peeler fled the room, or even a piece of rotten fruit, signifying the evanescence of the moment. So, here is a collage of the cowwoman's transitions. First the baby cowwoman, all done up in pigtails, two sweet years old. And there's that dreaded rosary, the cross she bore for decades before deciding it was all just fear-mongering dogma, let the old folks roll around in it, I'm out of here. Glasses, well, they arrived around 40, and hung in there. My teddy bear Hermione is my eternal youth symbol. I have that youngun right here, in my heart. The Olay cream is the last ditch effort to keep everything hanging together just one more day. Love my toenail lotion, and, while I will go out without foundation or mascara, I always put on my lipstick. It's the least I can do for the world at large. Vanitas. Tempus fugit, folks.
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