They didn’t make it clear when they bent over to get face to face and asked the question, “What do you want to become when you grow up?” They made it seem like it was a one time thing. I never dreamed it would be daily.

The easiest thing would be to just let them all fall to the ground, the wild plums from our garden tree. But that’s not who I am. So I stand bucketed beneath the limbs and pluck and shake and fill. Wild plums do not give it away easily. Skin and pit are prepared to put up quite a fight. I could just smash them all together, and it would be easier, but again I answer, possibly with less conviction, but still, that’s not really who I am. So I peel each tiny fruit. One by one. Put them in the colander to let the juices flow. Smash them by hand, struggling to release the pit that hangs on, and on…but I can’t blame a pit for being a pit. The juice and sweet pulp that remains gets sugared and boiled into the most beautiful rouge — prune rouge. 

We had it on our homemade bread for breakfast. The day becomes, and I begin.

Maybe there’s no way to be warned. And maybe it’s better that we aren’t. It would be a little overwhelming to hear that you are going to have to become, and become and become. Every day you will be asked to become the person you want to be. For me, it’s from canvas, to paper, to table. From person to person, customers online, strangers en route, family in house…who am I to each of them, to myself? Of course I fail, but therein lies the beauty of it all, I get to become again. We all do. 

That’s not to say it’s easy. Tears and sweat will need to be wiped away constantly, but when you get there, to the sweet prune rouge of it all, it is beautiful, this becoming, so I face the mirror and ask myself, still and again, to become.