Don't I know You?

Phoebe and I have known each other for a year. We're part of the monthly neighborhood clean-up crew that collects left-behind dog shit and every brand of cigarette butt you can name. She wandered into my Open Studio today, though she didn't know it was my studio; she didn't know I was an artist. Initially, she didn't even recognize me. She's pushing 80, so there might be memory issues. We had a nice talk as we "got to know each other," and then it dawned on her. She smiled, smacked her forehead. "I had no idea," she said. "How could you?" I said. "It's great to have an artist in the neighborhood," she said. She hugged me. I didn't sell any art, but I got to know Phoebe a little better. (www.daleeastman.com)

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