When I’m deep in thought, I scowl. Adam used to ask if I was pissed about something. Some guy at a gas station once told me I should smile more. My chaplaincy supervisor in seminary inquired: “What’s the grimace about?” looking for some psychological reflection that might explain it. I came up blank, I’m afraid.
Adam captured it in this photo from our local library, where we sometimes both end up when we’re both looking to get some extra-focused work accomplished.
I’m not sure why I scowl, grimace, frown, etc. My dad knits his brows when he thinks, but I don’t think I’ve seen him look quite as severe as I seem to.
Maybe I’m more angry at the world than I like to admit. But mostly, it makes me think of the Bible story of Jacob wrestling with the angel: “I will not let you go, until you bless me!” (“You crazy idea/scripture/piece of writing/email you!”)
