It looks on the surface like life as usual around here. In reality, I feel like someone upended the house and set it down again. Everything seems weirdly off. Bizarre. Most turned upside down are my insides, that feel bruised and heavy. I am doing better at eating, and find that working in the pastels is a blessed surcease of the inner turmoils. So I did this little one today, very fast, of kingfishers, one of my favorite birds. I did one from a Van Gogh painting in my very first art class. I gave it away. I miss it. Missing things is what is up in this time. It's just another phase of life on life's terms, of course. Navigating unfamiliar waters, and gee, not the first time. Testing my recovery big time. It is intact even when I feel fractured.
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