Open your mouth, something good to eat just drops in? Ah, those days are over. Well, they really never were for me. My mother fed me canned peas. Horrid stuff. And now, I have, of course, my eating philosophy - if it isn't luscious, I am not eating it. No more fig newtons or rice cakes. Don't care if they are good for me. I just had a lovely chicken salad with broccoli slaw and shredded carrots and Mandarin oranges and toasted slice almonds with sesame soy dressing. Yummy. And strawberry ice cream, just a little bit, made with coconut milk, low in calories and fat, high in satisfaction. That is my way of being these days - good to my little self, who has spent most of her life floundering around, doing all kinds of things that wounded her, and is now in the long and rewarding process of healing. The art helps. The art continues to surprise me. I thought this was a lost cause for the longest time. And now, just look. It's kind of magical, the art. It really just does itself. No mind involved. Amazing.
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