I had an easy pregnancy then, a startlingly difficult birth and post-natal health. I had undiagnosed preeclampsia that wasn’t discovered until 2 weeks after my due date. By that time, I was getting ill and my expectations for birth were shattered.
I was on a clock to preserve my health and the baby’s health.
The first painting I ever sold came from a vicodin-induced haze. I have no recollection of creating it. I went into a fit after my wisdom teeth were removed, vacuuming the house for bugs and creating several mixed-media paintings in the span of 24 hours.
I’m not busy.
It’s a strange thing to say. When is the last time you heard that phrase? Can you remember the last time you said it?
I am not busy. I have not been busy for a long time. It’s a choice and most people don’t understand.
Some may automatically argue that I have it easier. If only I lived their lives I would realize why it is so necessary to be busy.
I call B.S.
Autumn. It’s the time when we suddenly curl up with cups of tea and short stories. Saturdays beg for quiet comforts like imaginative musings. Continue reading