THE WRINKLE Outdoor Floor Mats

Now, we're all about keeping the outside, outside, and the inside, inside. But, what about cutt'n a rug and having a dance party? These mats offer the perfect vibrant invitation for any occasion. Made of 100% polyester, . 2 IN thick, 20 oz. loop carpet top with rubber Durgan tread backing for nonskid grip and durability. They are great for the outdoors and any high trafficked area. We suggest Scotchguard or similar protective coating. Otherwise, hand wash with cool or warm water and air dry.

ABOUT THE PAINTING:

THE WRINKLE: Acrylic on canvas, 24 x 20 IN.

Sometimes I wonder and then I wander… how many “near misses” and “close but no cigars” are we traversing in our lives? I joke around about traffic, stoplights and invariably being late for an appointment or engagement. Honestly, I don’t think it’s completely ridiculous to fall back on the affirmation I use most while traveling roadways and byways through life: YOU’RE RIGHT WHERE YOU NEED TO BE.

I was reminded of that axiom while writing the accompaniment for this piece. Sometimes, the words for my paintings flow. Sometimes, I need a little space between finishing a piece and writing the accompaniment. This piece was one such occasion, so I went to the Denver Botanic Gardens to clear my head. It was there that I found the answer in meeting Connie and her mom.

I was sitting at a corner table, near a waterlily pond facing the sun… and, it would seem, facing a woman the same age my mom would’ve been had she lived and her mom. I could hear bits of their conversation, talk about the weather and flowers and how the coffee might have been too hot… was drawn to their body language. When the opportunity arose, I told them they made me miss my mother and grandmother. We shared a laugh, then I went back to work, they back to their coffee.

As the gardens began to close, Connie left the table. I began packing my things and talking with her mom. She was in her 90s and from North Dakota. She’d been visiting Connie and her family for close to a month. Denver had better medical care than where she lived. Connie had been trying to talk her into selling her house and moving in with them but she didn’t want to be a burden. I stopped her midsentence because I knew this conversation well, I’d had it before and listened as my friends had shared the same conversations with me. “You’re not a burden, if your daughter is offering it…” I started, then let the words sink in as I continued with the same things I had told my dad, my grandma and advized my friends many times over through the years. Connie walked into our conversation, listening and mouthing thank you behind her wheelchaired mom. 

Thus, the story for THE WRINKLE was written in that conversation; my belief that I’m always right where I need to be was again reaffirmed.