The Art That Really Matters

I was flying to Texas for a conference. I kissed the family goodbye, drove two hours to PDX, hustled through security, and then to my gate. While waiting for my flight to board, I reached in my bag and found this note.

Yes, it’s a hand drawn picture of a crying pig, which I will admit, was unexpected. It was obvious drawn by my 9yo daughter, Norah. Pigs …