Sixty-something woman shares ruminations as she plys the latter third of her life with the caveat that age entitles her to be absolutely outrageous whenever possible.
Thursday, May 24, 2012
Progress not perfection...
Well, there is always a new day. Until there aren't any more, of course. Looks like I will remain vertical for a while, and today, it is better than it was yesterday, which was better than Tuesday, which was hell. Have decided to let it be what it is, not try to muscle through my current low energy/high headache phase. If tests show nothing physical, committed to doing some counseling, which is never a bad idea. And working at doing more art during this time. It is the only thing that gives me surcease from the constant barrage of self-interest that runs like DOS in the background all the freaking time. Well, the Punk helps, too. He has been the easiest pup since the Boo, is pretty much trained to go outside (with a little help from Mom), and can be trusted more, which makes my life ever so much easier. So, not jumping up and down, but pretty contented today. Off to start another masterpiece. Loving the animals. This may be what I was looking for when I was casting about for an idea that worked for me, and a style I liked. The pastels seem to be my medium. And I even went online and found mats in the size I had been paying a small fortune to have cut for me at our local craft store. Ordering them even as we speak. See, not entirely stagnant here. Sort of treading water, not going anywhere fast, and that's okay. Yes.