The Women with the Wild Hair

     My hands found their home inside my pockets while I walked along the wooden floor. The sounds of the screaming wood weren't unfamiliar to my ears. I could still remember the smell of the room given I'd been there a short week ago.

     The same art clothed the walls. The same sculptures stood vacant in random corners of the room. But, this time was different. Susan, the creator of much of the art stood watching me as I watched her art. She accompanied me along my journey of understanding her reasoning for each piece. She described how her hands longed to create objects that were within her mind. I watched as the women with the wild hair longed for me to see inside her imagination.