Saturday, October 28, 2006

Jan Oskar Hansen


Made mother a wooden spoon, didn’t hollow it out much
she said it was an economical spoon and giggled, I also
gave her a bread-board, with a pattern on, it had warped
and was quite useless, feeling futile it quietly left and
wasn’t missed. Mother used to laugh a lot when she was
young, once I gave her a painting I had made, called it
“night” except for a few stars there was nothing to see,
this caused great hilarity, she promised to hang it up in
the hall, never did, it ended up behind the wardrobe in
her bedroom. My masterpiece was a carved horse, only
its hind legs were to thin, one broke, the teacher glued it
together, it had black painted hooves, was fond of that
steed, never took it home to mother though; I mean, do
I look like a comedian?

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