Sooooo glad those holidaze are almost history, and cowwoman can get back to dabbing at a canvas with paint, or smearing pastels, or just sharpening a pencil. Too long, no art. It really is an integral part of my psyche now, to create something, anything. Also need a sewing machine expert to come over and instruct me in the intricasies of this very wonderful and complicated machine I have owned for over two years, and now need to know how to use! Help! As this year ends (and lordy, let it be over!), I am reviewing my tiny life, looking in the dark corners where things like dog hair and crumbs tend to lodge, sweeping up, so to speak. I started a 4th step around my mother (again!), because she managed to push the button (again!), you know, the one she installed back in the beginning, when dirt was new. I have been stomping around the little yellow house, yelling at her, telling her off. Of course I would never do that up close and personal. It would hurt me more than it hurt her. But I do know that this anger lives in my body, and unless I get it out, no amount of writing or discerning or pissing and moaning will break it loose. I know it's the right thing because it feels great. And the really fine thing about the 4th step is, that once all the vitriol is out there on the paper, I get to do the real work of seeing MY PART. After all, can't change the old witch of the west. Can only change the old lady here, on Wild Rose Drive. Then I can paint some more cows.
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