Impasto

Years ago my family giggled at a comedian's

joke about finding the name of his skin color

on a paint strip sample. We laughed more

when we went to the store and found the name

for each of our various skin tones.

I can’t remember what names we decided

my skin or my family’s most resembled.

Looking at myself now changed over with the

seasons of nature and life I wonder again what

name of paint might best be suited to me.

Am I "028 Rich Coral" the shade of my face

after laughter or sorrow brings me to my

knees and fills my eyes with tears?

Am I "1293 Badlands" the glow that over

takes me when anger or embarrassment

invade and sweep across my body?

Am I "1223 Brentwood" the spray of many

moles and freckles that seem ever ready to

multiply as year after year passes by?

Am I "1294 Potter Wheel" the hue of my nipples

that have brought pleasure to my husband and

life sustaining milk to my children?

Am I "048 Southwest Pottery" the color of my

forearms tinted from hours spent at work and

play under the sun’s golden rays?

Am I "OC-98 Bare" the splash hidden from light

under my watch that has ticked off the days and

minutes till wanted or unwanted life events?

Am I "1298 Coral Bronze" the undertone of

wrinkled palms hardened and worn from daily

work and softened with bundles of love and joy?

Am I "1379 Eggplant" the stain of stretch marks

across my now flabby tummy the left over

evidence of carrying magnificent children?

Am I "890 Pink Damasco" the streak on my knee,

a scar from a first attempt to shave my legs, one

of many injuries received in life’s classroom?

Am I "HC-152 Whipper Blue" the tinge of

varicose veins that once caused no harm but

now bring torment night and day?

Am I "190 Pearly Gates" the tone of my feet, long

neglected, which have taken me on numerous

emotional and physical paths?

From this palette of paint chips displayed before

my eyes which should I claim as my own?

Can I be defined as just one color for each has

a story, each a symbol of both beauty and pain.

And, as time moves on new pigments will arrive.

I claim them all past, present, and future for

they are all a part of me. They are the impasto

of my life made from each and every moment

with myself, my family, my friend, or my foe

covering my body canvas with memories.

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Check out some of these experiences that helped add the colors to my body and soul.