that what she loves most about me is my neck. Seeing this painting for real, in NYC, I broke down in tears because of the love loaded impact it had in real life.
I think this illustrates why Niki loves my neck. Why any child loves a parent's neck above all. It is a remnant of that early baby closeness, before there are words. We don't have that anymore, yet we kind of do. When I put her to bed, when we turn out the lights, when we lie next to each other, waiting for sleep to sail away with her, there are a few moments when the feeling is exactly this, and her little arm is slung around my neck.
To be a mother. I love it so.