I was just downstairs working on a painting. You know from yesterday's post it's been a long (albeit good) haul. I have a tendency to go, go, go until I can go no further.
This is not my greatest quality.
My mom(we're visiting her) came downstairs and insisted I go to bed. Post an old painting she suggested. There are plenty to choose from here she told me.
I looked around and saw lots of old pieces. I saw my pesky inhaler on the counter and was reminded of the breath I've been fighting for. I remembered the email I sent to my Story Circles class today recounting my choice to choose love.
Shit! Choosing love includes myself. I need rest. I am flying to WDS tomorrow as want to be my best self. Mom's request was not a hard sell.
I chose a painting of bamboo that hangs in her bedroom. I did it about 15 years ago. It was during a time I was a commissioned flower painter and was starting to tire of it.
I remember splashing this painting with bleach, soaking it in the bath tub, splattering it with gold paint. Trying to undo all the tight lines I habitually created.
I like it now. Especially the moon. A story circle in and of itself.
Practicing self care(ugh the term makes me cringe though I'm growing in to it). A puff off the inhaler and off to bed.
Thanks for the reminder mom. xo