the P.Pole

I made an anti-racism poster awhile ago out of a sketch of mine. Click title for the poster.
Here’s the story of the sketch:
A little while back I drew a fist. It wasn’t a particularly pretty fist. It had smudges and uglies. Nevertheless, I loved that dear fist. I thought it spiffy. It didn’t wuite feel complete. It was lacking something, but I knew not what it was.
A few months later, I revisited the drawing. I knew instantly what it needed: a bullet hole. I promptly added one, but it still seemed a tad generic. I realized that the next step would be to change the hole a little. And then it hit me, to put a bullet in glass. In a matter of minutes, the
drawing was nearly completed.
After scanning a high definition copy of it, I brought it with me to Hosanna Retreat. During devotionals one morning, I took out my beloved sketch book that housed the fist, and began putting the final touches on it. It had blossomed from a somewhat mundane sketch into something that meant a lot more to me. It was one of my few pieces that I could actually be proud of. Little did I know that, in a matter of hours, I would giving it away. Actually, I lied. That had been my purpose all along. That night, my beheart’d drawing passed from me to my beheart’d one.
And what a fab gal she’s been all this time. Sure, we have our differences. Actually, that’s a bit of an understatement; naturally, we don’t always get along but that is quite okay with me. I’m not counting. I <3 her!
Like some opposites – though a better word for us would be “counterparts” – I think we can go quite nicely together, like coffee + cream, black + white, night + day, work + play, no + yes, lemon + honey, down + up, left + right, boy and girl… O.o