In my world Art and #TBT is so nostalgic for me when I think about the times well spent with my creative late grandmother. Especially on laundry day because of her hands and legs riddled with crippling arthritis the process of getting the washed laundry through the neck of the wringer of the pot belly washing machine was definitely a chore. Usually, we would sing songs and make it a fun time while my grandmother would push through the arthritic pains. However, pulling the laundry through the wringer was my favorite part and seeing myself filling up the empty spaces in the large wicker laundry basket placed on the linoleum floor was exciting. My legs were too short to stand flat on the floor. So, I would always stand on one of the chrome legged kitchen chairs that way I could do a good job at getting the water out of the freshly washed clothes as I slowly push and pull the clothes out of the back of neck of the wringer. Slowly, Out the laundry would come flat as a pancake, and semi-dry. My grandmother was an excellent homemaker because she kept the family together. My grandfather was one of the first civilians to work for the Federal Government that was a big deal for a person of color. I can recall going to his job with my brother at the Port of Embarkation my grandfather ran the manpower elevator it was so exciting looking up at my grandfather’s face seeing him smile as he worked those clinking elevator gates, and before that he worked in food service at Camp LeRoy Johnson in New Orleans, Louisiana in the mid-1900’s. Unfortunately, today many families do not know what kind of work his/her grandparents did in the past. So, the map of the Heart gets distorted, disjointed, and disconnected.