Paper Flowers.

Pages of a story long told. Scissors a grandmother once lent her hand to. Carving out time, piece by piece, to bring back together in a whole new glory.

Such small an effort broken down, yet a fine length of hard work. Pinching, shaping, working. Familiar wince at the glue heat, searing through paper. Oh but how else to fix such beauty in place?

Adornments galore as each piece takes shape. Who knows where this inspiration leads, letting in it’s flow.

Every day, I learn.


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