Abstract

Matisse Mamas My Dear Piet ATLANTA, GEORGIA - I was asked to join a group of fabulous women, all breast cancer survivors, in Atlanta. The party was hosted by a company with a breathtaking view of philanthropy: they really just want to make a difference for mommies who have breast cancer. The company is Kids II and they search every year for women who’s charities could use a little financial boost. So far, 40 women have seen their foundations benefit from this incredible generosity. I’ve met the people who run this company, and trust me when I tell you – they are unique in all the world. They actually.care.about.us.    So for one of the evenings at this all-weekend party, they took us to the High Museum of Art, a superfantastico art museum. We had such an amazing time, just walking around all of that beauty. And I’m not just talking about those cancer patients, the art wasn’t bad either. ;) I realized at one point that we, all of us, were abstract now. At one point in our lives, we were all painted by Rembrandt, Titian, Raffaello Sanzio da Urbin. All of us cancer gals were exactly as we were originally designed; not a scratch on us. At some point; however, cancer reached out its brush full out paint and splattered us. Now we are an abstract version of who we used to be, in every way possible. But the beauty of that is the fact that we are now a new and different type of art piece. Of course we have scars. Things are totally misaligned, crooked, off center. Entire body parts have been, in most cases, removed, adjusted and stuck right back on like a crazy lego set. As I looked around that museum, I realized that we are STILL ART, however. My fellow patients were still lovely – some so beautiful the rest of us were pea green with envy (me, mostly about their shoes, to be candid). But there you have it. We are abstract. But as a result, we are beautiful. Worth noticing. Highly valued. As a matter of fact, every day we age we become even more miraculous and worth a pretty high appraisal.