Fleeting Moments

Back in June (june 7th i think...)I had posted about a conundrum involving the giving of a certain painting, and more importantly the giving of my word. At the time I hadn't decided whether or not I was going to send it, burn it, or keep it. After coming back from Russia, talking to my friends about it some more, I decided to send it. Errands and other preocupations kept me busy, and it was only a week later that I was able to send the painting. The painting's odd shape made it difficult to find a compatible mailing envelope. In addition, I had no idea what the zip code of Mississippi was. All of these little drawbacks made me wonder if maybe I shouldn't send it.
Originally, I hadn't wanted to send a note with the painting, but then I decided that would be slightly dramatic; and anyways, the note wasn't some kind of personal touch. No, the note was for the painting, for its instruction.
The note went like this:

-XXXX,

The painting is unfinished, unadulterated and in the same condition

it was in late January when I put it on my shelf. Never, under any

circumstances, would I give or release an unfinised painting,

but I cannot work on this creation anymore, and I have other

projects that I must start. Now, I am released for I have kept my

word. Its fate is in your hands, do with it whatsoever you desire.

- Masha.

The woman at the Post Office helped me send it off, and walking out the door, I felt awesome, amazing, so good. I couldn't stop smiling, and on the drive back home I reveled in my bliss. A couple days later, I told one of my closest friend's about sending the painting. We talked about how funny it would be if it got lost in the mail, hanging out somewhere in a post office.

A week went by, and I asked this certain person if he had received a package. He replied that he hadn't; it's been two and a half weeks, and the fate of the painting is still unknown. Maybe the post office has it, maybe it was sent to the wrong address, maybe the old couple next door got it and now it's in their possession.

The situation turned out just as it should have. The painting belongs to no one; it chose it's own path. Yet more importantly I kept my word. I said I would do something, and I did it to the end even when it was difficult, uncomfortable, and problematic. All that the painting stood for is scattered about the cosmos- the good, the bad, the ugly, and the beautiful.

A perfect ending to the conundrum and relationship.

5:25 PM

4 Falling Stars