My husband and I have been having an on-going conversation. It goes something like this:
Me: When I die, I don’t want a funeral.
Him: You don’t get a choice. You’re having a funeral.
Me: But I don’t want all those people staring at me.
Him: You’ll be dead. You won’t care.
Me: It’s the casket chatter that I don’t want to hear. You know, “Who did her makeup – she looks like Ronald McDonald,” or, “I don’t remember her having all those wrinkles and spots,” or, “Why did they leave her glasses on – is she afraid of missing something?”
Him: You’ll be dead. You won’t care what they say.
So along comes this opportunity to make a mask and I decided to do something dramatic and appropriate for the inevitable (and apparently required) funeral. Taking a cue from Vampira and Svengooli, I decided to create a mask that covers all and with any luck stops the coffin conversations. So both my husband and I win.
But I won’t care; I’ll be dead.
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Last Updated November 6, 2014