Healing.

Mmmmmmmm...glorious colour.  Nothing like getting up at the crack of dawn (or pre-dawn) to squeeze out paint and layer it on a canvas (or two).  Time in my studio is a balm for anything that ails me. 

I have heard some sad family news of late and am extremely grateful for the healing properties of this work I am privileged to do.  Painting heals me.  It allows me to be present, to slow down and breathe...all the things that are necessary to bide my time in this world.  Focusing on beauty helps me to see it more frequently and reminds me that not all is dark, not all bleak.  That life is ripe with possibility and that it's all up to me to pay attention. 

My neighbor has experienced terrible losses in a short period of time but she is one of the most positive influences in my life.  She allows herself to grieve briefly and then pulls herself up and allows herself to be happy by doing things that give her joy and by doing things that make others happy.  I know I too have a choice, to wallow or to get up and help to create a better world for myself and others.

I have mentioned the family history of clinical depression, alcoholism and suicide and my hope is that others can find their way to joy the way that I have...not necessarily through painting but through faith and creativity.

“Nobody will protect you from your suffering. You can't cry it away or eat it away or starve it away or walk it away or punch it away or even therapy it away. It's just there, and you have to survive it. You have to endure it. You have to live through it and love it and move on and be better for it and run as far as you can in the direction of your best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by your own desire to heal.”    ― Cheryl Strayed, Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar