I immediately knew she was broadly educated and cultured from outside the deep south black culture surrounding us. She didn’t speak black nor did sh... even smell black. Yet she was truly black. I knew something was profoundly different about her from the second we met. Her movements were fluid and graceful. Her handshake showed her softness yet was firm with no suggestion of being either aggressive nor passive. She radiated a calm self confidence born of conquered adversity. Her perfume was. Wrong angle. It's gotta be jarring but subtle. Argh!I worked for four hours. Dad interrupted me once, but I ignored him, and he went away. When I stepped back from the painting my heart raced. Rage! The painting wasn't finished, but the underlying emotion shined through.Like a method actor, I'd willed rage to rise up and become my dominant emotion, but as I gazed at the painting, I felt the fury inside me melt away. Rage gives way to joy. Rage will lose the race with happiness every time. I. More

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