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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.


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