Photoshop filter, "Ink Outline"

(It's Been) So Long...

I experience "writer's block" (or more accurately, lack of art-making) as a form of frontal lobe dysfunction. I sense a lack of central networking between my creative mind and the outcomes from my hands; ideas just don't make it to the tips of my fingers. BUT I'm very blessed to be working as a Massage Therapist and I'm doubly-blessed that my clients have such profound Special Needs. The tips of my fingers and my brain are always busy and engaged and, for the most part, quite content with the tasks at hand…literally, of course. I might not be keeping up on my art but I know in my heart that I'm doing Good Things.

The last 2 months have been challenging on every single level of my Life save one: Love. We lost a close family friend (78, found dead at her kitchen table) and my cousin Mark (42, suicide by self-strangulation, conspicuously drug-induced…after extended sobriety) within 2 weeks of each other. Their deaths were sudden, baffling, painful, and forever mysterious. I was so unprepared for the impact. I didn't know that I loved them so much. I didn't know how angry I'd be about my cousin's suicide; I wanted so much to pursue the person we believe set his Fate into motion.

One outcome is that I no longer have any buffer income. My former employer and I mutually agreed that I shouldn't work with her. I actually think that she might have started the conversation with the intent of my possibly staying but really, after all of that and she's going to complain that I'm not chipper enough? Really? To be honest, I'm having a hard time letting go of that conversation; the woman truly has no clue about me and yet she was able to project so much! I must be getting old because I find myself thinking, "I was punctual, trustworthy, efficient (at least w domestic tasks). I worked through injury, illness and grief and you're wishing I was more like the 21-yr old LIAR who worked until her first check and never showed up again?!?!?" (Maybe now I'll feel better…?)

And then there's my Edward Joseph. My Oasis…my Peace…there's an undeniable electrical (?) connection that's been made between us that constantly recharges itself; a "Northern Lights-type of phenomena. I've never had this kind of Love. I'm in awe of us. This is Our Life.

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**sigh** As I attempt to be my own editor, I reread this entry and I'm not pleased with my writing. I'll do my best to improve and I'll also try to be kind to myself. 'Give myself more recovery time….