WIP struggles

When I was a little girl I always wanted a purple bicycle.  When I was a little girl there were no purple bicycles to be found in my hometown.  Daddy bought me a pink bicycle.  I did not like pink at all.  But it was a bicycle, and so begins the education of accepting what is given to me with grace and thankfulness.

A few years ago a took some photos of bicycles snuggled into their stanchions. It reminded me of the dairy cows in my daddy's milking barn.  The juernesys were semi locked into a space with piles of oats as enticement while they were being relieved of their milk.  Later on they were replaced by the more productieve holstiens.  You might ask, what does this have to do with anything?  I might reply, this is just the natural progression of my thoughts.

This piece began as a deep violet bicycle with golden wheels.  Those colors were just not as enticing to me as a golden yellow bicycle with violet wheels.  Sometimes what you think you wanted is not really what you want at all.

The subdued background may be changing as well.  Life is, after all, a work in progress.