l'art d'être · laureen andalib

Heart-stabber

When my grandfather was assigned to Nigeria during his diplomacy, he brought back this intricately-carved ivory tusk for his family, eventually passing it on directly to my mother. Being the crazy granddaughter whose status just-so-happens to be artist, artifact-hoarder, and wildlife-fanatacist, I can’t stand paining to imagine which elephant’s life was tolled, nor can I be the artistic hypocrite who drools over how perfectly-carved, glossed, and spaced the aerated texture on such a rare and primitive-styled sculpture is.
I guess today marks the day I maturely withdraw from the “siblings-race” in inheriting this beautiful and contradictory bane-of-existence.

I’ve never loved and hated something so much, and at the same time, I think my grandfather would be happier if he knew I was left un-tormented by such a stupid, materialistic little object, only to be fed on for sadly embarrassing geekisms..

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Heart-stabber

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