I live with artists. At the beginning of the year, I asked them to make a banner for BCM. They only needed half of the queen sized sheet so they lovingly cut it down the middle. Half turned into a lovely, welcoming banner and the other half became our drop sheet, our paint catcher, and our bear down spot.
It is there when our colors spill over the edges. It is there when life’s emotions get crazy, the only solution seems to be to finger paint, and then make hand prints. It is there to cradle Anna’s splatter when she paints the sun. It was there when I worked on a banner for a dear friend, decided it would be better with footprints, and we laughed as I painted my roommate’s feet and Hannah carried her from dear old drop cloth to the shower. It was there even yesterday, when in the midst of studying for finals, Stephanie decided it would be a bit more complete with cat fabric glued to it, just because she’s great at spontaneous joy.
The drop sheet is not the masterpiece my roommates complete, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t beautiful. It is a good depiction of the mystery of life. We are not finished pieces. I’m far from being a masterpiece, but I love being a drop sheet – catching the colors that fall off the edges, being shaped and changed by the hand prints of friends, and living in the splatter of the moments.