The stars at night are big and bright
Deep in the heart of Texas
Deep in the heart of Texas
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The stars at night are big and bright
Deep in the heart of Texas
<lj-cut> <img src="http://www.malachiarts.org/~cecily/lubbock600.jpg" " alt="stars" width="400"/>
The prairie sky is wide and high
Deep in the heart of Texas
<img src="http://www.malachiarts.org/~cecily/texascloseup.jpg" " alt="prairie" width="400"/>
The sage in bloom is like perfume
Deep in the heart of Texas
Reminds me of the one I love
Deep in the heart of Texas
<img src="http://www.malachiarts.org/~cecily/texas600.jpg"" alt="texas" width="400"/>
Made by my great grandmother (aka: Flossie or "Mama Mac").
She took some of her favorite costume jewelry apart and glued it to the white background, backed it with black velvet, and framed it in a big oval frame with domed glass.
As a child I would stand on the chair that sat underneath it and stare straight into it. I couldn’t stop staring. My mother and grandmother were slightly ashamed of the tackiness. I just couldn’t figure out what it was: Tacky? Beautiful? I’ve decided it’s the synergy of both. Now I’ve inherited it, it has moved to California with me and I still stare at it…
</lj-cut>
x-posted to my own journal
Deep in the heart of Texas
<lj-cut> <img src="http://www.malachiarts.org/~cecily/lubbock600.jpg" " alt="stars" width="400"/>
The prairie sky is wide and high
Deep in the heart of Texas
<img src="http://www.malachiarts.org/~cecily/texascloseup.jpg" " alt="prairie" width="400"/>
The sage in bloom is like perfume
Deep in the heart of Texas
Reminds me of the one I love
Deep in the heart of Texas
<img src="http://www.malachiarts.org/~cecily/texas600.jpg"" alt="texas" width="400"/>
Made by my great grandmother (aka: Flossie or "Mama Mac").
She took some of her favorite costume jewelry apart and glued it to the white background, backed it with black velvet, and framed it in a big oval frame with domed glass.
As a child I would stand on the chair that sat underneath it and stare straight into it. I couldn’t stop staring. My mother and grandmother were slightly ashamed of the tackiness. I just couldn’t figure out what it was: Tacky? Beautiful? I’ve decided it’s the synergy of both. Now I’ve inherited it, it has moved to California with me and I still stare at it…
</lj-cut>
x-posted to my own journal