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.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
All my troubles, Lord, soon forgotten...
Well, I got sick. And though it seemed impossible not so long ago, I am getting well, again, too. Not as springy as I used to be, and, because my appetite dropped out of existence, I was hella weak for a bit. All this is hella scary when you live alone, like I do. Both dogs survived, even the tomato plant still has life in it. And the world kept right on turning. Now, onward. I framed the tiger, and, for a quick and rather sketchy piece (on very dramatic black paper), he is really fine now. I'm calling him "Burning Bright", and he may be the choice to go to Art for Life. Or not. Really, I surprise myself , all the time. I finish these paintings, put them away for a while, and it is as if I have never seen them before, and someone else did them. Well, Someone Else did, held my hand and pushed it around. Life is just one big surprise, you know.