A year with paint stained hands.


The light today was pure bliss. We all stopped and just stared for a while, fell deep into the rays and washed ourselves with beauty.


A first dusting of snow and cold hands making balls to toss and throw.


Hot tea waiting to warm our insides and a daddy on a plane ride home.


I love this time of year. So very much. Like many, I can get the holiday blues here and there, but I use those days, those moments to get quiet and reflect.


I think about the year, what I did, what felt good. What hurt.


It is 2 years now that I picked back up a paintbrush, one year in which I have given it my all.


Every day this year, I have painted.


It saved me.


It saves me.


Covid is still around. People are still getting sick. Disasters keep coming and horrible things happen. But I am learning to find beauty more and more.


Rays of sunlight can stop me in my tracks.


I close my eyes often to listen to a bird's wings flap above me in the sky.


I read more poetry ....


and I create and paint and love.