jennboeun

As we drove up the N2, Linda pointed out the different shades of green that made up the landscape. I said mmhmm and nodded in acknowledgment, continuing to stare out the window. I had been enjoying the neon and pine and jade and moss as well.

Matthias sped up and the colors began to blur. My mind drifted to David and how his brows always furrowed when he was in the thick of one of his drawings. He would hold two or three crayons in one hand, and furiously color with the other. The craggy lines of a sailboat, the different blues used for swirling waves, an invasion of lightning bolts in an otherwise empty sky - these were the details that made his pictures alive, different, full of emotion, entirely his.

I last saw David four years ago, so he is now eleven. He would have drawn everything I've seen here and since last December so beautifully. I picture him insisting that we stop the car, running out looking around crouching down touching this and that - examining the big and small things with awe and curiosity.