I don't know about you, but I feel an enormous pressure hissing out of my pores. The brunt of the holidays is over and hooray, it's Black Friday. Retailers are hoping to brighten a less than stellar season with bargains galore. They're practically giving stuff away. So stop reading and go shopping. On a more serious note: enough with the fakery, the false bonhomie and good cheer.
We all wear masks but this year it was painful to watch. I wanted to shake people and say, "It's okay to be sad, to be worried." it's beeter to be hated for what you are, than to be loved for what you aren't.

This is an antique ceramic mask on my porch. I probably shouldn't have kept it there but I did. During the summer, it graced a rustic arrangement of walking sticks. Recently, it met its fate and broke into three pieces. The metaphor is so perfect, I've left it on the porch as a reminder to be true to myself. It will eventually be moved, repaired or thrown out. I haven't decided its fate, but for now it makes me smile.