Okay, the truth is I don't feel all that positive every day. Some days I am frustrated and discouraged and those are the days I post nothing. No one likes a negative attitude and I hate feeling sorry for myself.
The truth is, I am not getting back to making art all that much. My studio sits empty while I--to the best of my current ability-- take care of other things, long neglected, including helping with the care of my father, 87, whose memory loss is Alzheimer's and who needs a lot of help and attention.
The truth is I'm frustrated being so inactive and having it take twice as long to get anything physical accomplished, if I can even manage it at all. There is no hiking, no kayaking, no biking and worst of all, no gardening. I can't bear to look at my gardens. Let the frost come so everything will just die and go away! I can't wait for everything to get buried in snow!
The truth is, my brush with death has left its mark, though I can't quite conceptualize yet what that mark looks like. But today I sure feel it. I am impatient for a sense of normalcy.
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