My new muse

Her name is La Negrita. That's what the woman called her who made her, then sold her to me. Walking around the plaza of vendors, none of the artsy craftsy stuff caught my eye until....a sea of yellow haired, blue haired, raspberry haired, nectarine haired Negrita dolls. Objectively they were nothing special but something pulled me in closer for a look. They were all so amable, so silly smiling and peaceful in that childlike naivete adults loose with the first pimple. The blue haired Negrita called out for me to pick her up, turn her over, stroke her six raggedy ann braids shooting straight up to the sky as if suspended in air by some supernatural force. squeeze me she encouraged. her expression was simple and perfect, not overly ornate. two thin ovals for eyes drawn with what seemed like chalk or crayon and below a huge kindergarten U for a mouth - big wide happy everythings just fine say hello to me kind of smile. I gave a squeeze to her middle - plump with cotton stuffing. Her head exaggeratedly large for her triangle shaped middle with a black and same color blue as her hair striped mini dress. Her feet swelled out larger than expected to match the fantastic bobbling head. As soon as I picked her up I knew, just knew she was coming home with me. I hesitated for just a second and asked the kind eyed woman artist "cuanto cuesto"? She told me 15 pesos and I borrowed the money from my friend Jennifer. Right away I tucked her half in to my purse so her head still stuck out to peer around.

Later that night I introduced her to Hugh and warned "don't let Utta get near her - she's not a dog's plaything". He looked at me with eyes that said "you're more than a little bit loca". it may be but right now she's as important to me as anything else. Early yesterday morning I tucked La Negrita into the front fold of my coffe stained robe, went out to our small balcony and wrote for an hour in the breezy sun. she just sat there with me quietly. (yes, I know what the neighbors were probably thinking).