even though how I feel trying to blog at this point in the day might be a good reason NOT to like my job (i feel i have about as much to offer as a cold bowl of wheathearts), it's simply a sweet, non-corporate, non-violent, encouraging, funny, winning occupation and I feel privileged: especially looking at art, talking about it with some for whom it's their very first exposure, first impression, first analysis. wish i could take them all to Italy.
how many of them at this point... 80 - 90? ugh. no wonder i'm cream of wheat. but i love it. love their lingering bits of innocence and very individual quirkiness and their already very potent personality strengths. i wish i could write quotes I've heard them say this last week, especially. or describe individual faces or mannerisms. (especially little Melinda's sosweet smile) but I won't do that. (nor will I forget).
i don't look forward to saying goodbye.
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