She’s not up a tree, she’s in my heart.

Bex Hall
2 min readFeb 19, 2022

“The aim of art is not to represent the outward appearance of things, but their inward significance.” — Aristotle

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Coal River Road

38° 22’ 55.02”N, 81° 51’ 37.404”W

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It was early 1969 and even though I was only five years old; I remember with clarity how I created this piece of art.

Grandmother had exclaimed through gritted teeth, “He’s driving me up the tree,” a few times the day I sat down with pen and a strip of paper, so that’s what I drew. I added ladder-like limbs to explain how she climbed the tree.

While I drew, her earlier aggravation evaporated. She watched me over the top of her horn-rimmed glasses.

The Easter holiday was near, so I added eggs both decorated and plain, on the ground and in the tree branches.

Her smile returned when I gave her caricature a bouquet of inky flowers. She assured me it was okay if I didn’t know how to draw arms. I would learn later.

I added some color and considered it done.

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Forty-three years later, I find this envelope with my name on it among Grandmother’s belongings. Postmarked New York, 1969, Grand Central Station and I don’t recognize…

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Bex Hall

Bex is an artist who writes and a writer who arts. Current WIP: memoir about cheating death, 2nd chances & the power of kindness. Blogs at bexhall.com.