Lydia's Treasures

I am not alone.

This is quite different from my year of solitude. Solitude brings clarity, yes. Hones observation. Probes the heart. But it is lonely. Some journeys are like that; so lonely you can taste your tears long after you've left the road.

But I am not alone on this art pilgrimage.

Last night, I brought little girls with me, my two daughters and a friend. To experience 'living art'... fine Italian food, ivory napkins and silver, and an opera singer. We laughed and talked. Lydia brought forth her treasures and set them on the table. "I found this under my bed, that at the AC Moore parking lot. I can't remember where the stone came from..."

And when the last song's final notes drifted off, practically the whole restaurant singing "Climb Any Mountain" with Mary Claire the opera singer, my eldest daughter was beaming. "The end, Mommy, I was trying to write it in my head as if we were in a story. I mean, what it felt like. Mommy, it was... it was like floating." Then she leaned into me, and that too was a treasure.

I am not alone. This is a together journey.





Photos: Mary Claire Sings; Girl Hands; Lydia's Treasures by L.L. Barkat