Wearing ballet slippers doesn’t make me a dancer.
Wearing cleats doesn’t (don’t?) make me a football player.
Wearing high heels doesn’t make me a fancy girl.
Or a business woman.
Or a high heeled woman.
Wearing sneakers doesn’t make me shifty and sly.
I’ve lived my life and taken it’s path on my own two feet.
Plain and simple.
And often times bare.
But I can work. And I can dance.
I can play. And I can score one for the team.
I can be as fancy as I want.
Or not. That’s the more likely choice for me.
And in trying to do all of the things I do-
Or choosing not to do what doesn’t fit me-
I can admire the laborer, the dancer, the athlete, and those having to fill the different shoes.
That I can’t fill.
Whatever those shoes are.
At lunch today I went to my car and felt like doodling. I drew these six sets of feet. For no reason. I don’t have a foot fetish or a shoe fetish. I just drew them. I took a break a couple of hours later and read Rarasaur’s Blog. Seriously. Who draws shoes at lunch for no reason?