In an unusual turn of events several aspects of my life have been hectic and hard, but somehow haven’t been depleting me. Instead they are wearing me into a soft and pliant art machine.
To my amazement, I’m too tired to even fight myself!
So when I come home, I draw – or write – or both. It’s lovely!
I’d be thrilled, but I’m too tired to do much about it, other than use exclamation points. Somewhere on the inside I am squealing and careening around in ecstasy.
But at this moment I’m just looking forward to dinner, and petting my kitties.
This is from my art book.