Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,
If you don't know how I became a work of bruised art, take a look at my previous post about the tow truck and the way I flew from the steps as though I were an acrobat working without a net.
The working without a net part was not smart.
If you have read about the tow truck, then you have an idea of what my right leg looks like. It is swollen and covered in bruise paint. A true artist took a brush to me and gave me dark, purple spots. I look forward to sharing the bruises with you as their colors change. Before long, they will turn into softer shades of green and blue.
I like pastels. They are soothing.
Now that you know what my right leg looks like, I want to share a real beauty from my left arm.
Infinities of love,
P.S. Please forgive me for not reading and commenting on your blogs. I am in rehab for my addiction to bruises.
I'm sorry the photo isn't better. It was kind of hard to get a good shot in the bathroom while holding up my left arm with my camera in my right hand and not show off my nightie, which you don't need to see (although it's one of my favorites). I also see that the housekeeper hasn't done a very good job of cleaning the mirror. It's streaky.
I think this shot is more interesting because it kind of looks as if I have two left arms with matching bruises. I took the first photo in the hall bathroom used by Favorite Young Man and Willy Dunne Wooters. This one is in my bathroom, which allows you to see the pretty frame around the mirror and the very nice tile in the shower. The purple on my arm is out of place with the rich gold and brown in the bathroom, but sometimes a splash of a different color is fun.