|"Friendship Bicycles", oil,|
by Linda Apple
I guess all of us wish we could find, some way or another, a force that we can always rely on, a force that’s always present for us and that can’t be conquered – and I think I’ve found one. Friendliness, it seems to me, is as present for us as the sky, and just as immeasurable and impregnable. After all, what problem can overpower our ability to simply be pleasant, to show some fellowship, to support and smile and say something that lifts instead of disheartens? Can’t friendliness survive even cancer, even a crushing kind of sorrow? In the midst of terror or tornadoes, can’t outgoingness and cordiality stay strong, and even grow stronger? It makes me think, surprisingly enough, of the simplest of math formulas. In the worst disaster, in sadness that strikes straight to the heart, in a failure that seems to foretell the failure of everything, 2+2 is still 4, and friendliness is still full of almighty force. If winds worked havoc and lightning burned my personal world away, 2+2 would still be 4, and friendliness, vast and everlasting, would still be the victor.