Free Waking Up in the Land of Glitter by Kathy Cano-Murillo Page A

wall unit that housed an iPod sound system, a Sony flat screen, DVDs, books, and a bottom row of drawers where
     she stashed secret treasures. She knelt, opened the first drawer, and retrieved a heavy, crumpled, black shopping bag. She
     got up, locked her door, and then sat at her desk and removed the items from the bag one by one. A set of craft paints, decorative-edge
     scissors, two types of glues, ribbon, scrapbook paper, crystals, beads, and a hot-glue gun. With all her preaching about art
     versus craft, Star couldn’t be caught dead with these items. Originally she bought them for Ofie, but now Star contemplated
     using them. If she did, it would be only once, and she would never breathe a word of it to anyone. Besides, if Frida Kahlo
     lived in this era, perhaps she would use curvy scissors now and then. It wouldn’t diminish the seriousness of
her
work.
    The clock hands moved to the midnight hour, and Star remained restless. Why not burn off some anxious energy by giving Ofie’s
     love shrine idea a try? If it sucked, Star would trash it. If it rocked, she’d offer it to Theo as a truce. As soon as she
     made the decision, she grabbed the box and couldn’t wait to start.
    Two hours later, Star still slaved away on the shrine. The week of solitude renewed her spirit, as did the thought of a fresh
     start. Gathering the items for the art piece was the only remedy that would keep her sane. Maybe her dad was right and she
     hadn’t given herself enough credit for her artistic flair.
    To her surprise, she actually enjoyed the process of sketching the layout and then affixing each memento in its place. She
     moved her body in swift mini circles to the bumping reggaeton beat from her stereo. She whistled in rhythm and reached for
     the zigzag scrapbook scissors to cut out the scene of the couple in their glorious moment. Hunched like a crafty surgeon about
     to perform a double-collage bypass, she snipped just below the couple’s interlocked arms, letting the rest of their nude ink-drawn
     bodies float to the floor. She affixed the picture to a piece of thick red glittered foam board mounted inside the cigar box.
     The side panels glistened with the vintage glass glitter and the border’s edges shimmered from two rows of ruby crystals.
    The final touch was a papier-mâché banner that Theo had sculpted and painted for her last year declaring his love. It said
     simply “Te amo.”
    The next time she looked at the clock, it read two a.m. Groggy and spent, she inhaled the air of personal satisfaction. Mission
     accomplished. This was a breathtaking, astounding art piece. The composition? Flawless. It exuded emotion and dizzying levels
     of devotion. The way the light gleamed from it had a mesmerizing, almost hypnotic effect. Star swore she saw a halo of light
     beaming around the edges; then again, the marathon craft session blurred her vision. She couldn’t believe something so beautiful
     came from her hands. Her imagination. Her heart. Could she really have what it took to be a real artist?
    She clenched the box. The thought of Theo seeing it was excruciating, but she had to control her elation. By this time tomorrow,
     hopefully he’d forgive her so they could start a new relationship, this time as official boyfriend and girlfriend.
    Star scooped up the supplies, shoved them back in the bag, and returned it to the drawer. She cleared her desk of any crafty
     evidence and then set the artwork on her nightstand and heard her mother’s light footsteps creek on the hallway’s hardwood
     floor. Dori entered, holding a cup of something steamy and delicious smelling. She sat down and patted the mattress for Star
     to join her.
    “I made you a cup of green tea. I can’t believe you are still up. What are you doing?”
    Star kicked off her polka-dotted Dr. Scholl’s and sat. “It’s so stupid and totally off base for me, but… I made a shadow box
     for Theo to say I’m sorry.” She gestured her arms to the