Medical history changes included a mini stroke, but she was doing better and still able to drive and get around with her walker. Not too bad for an year old, I suppose. Her husband had passed away a few years prior. She lived alone.
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While tightening the springs on this vintage parlor chair, a receipt for Winn Dixie (1982) fell out. (Receipt attached) I was still trying to decide on a design, so this was a bit of luck, as it inspired me to paint a mountain of flowers on it, along with the butterfly.
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I purchased five very small ceramic/porcelain dolls today. Honestly, I didn't really like dolls when I was a child. I was given dolls, but never played with them much. One exception was the Baby Alive doll. I was so interested to see if she would really poop and pee after feeding her and giving her a bottle, I did manage to give some of my valuable childhood time to her.
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This is fairly short and one would think, not related to art, but for me, inspiration to create art comes from my life.
We live in a very rural area. About a week ago, my husband and I passed the funeral home in town and there were cars filling the parking lot of not only the funeral home, but the business beside it. My husband said, "Somebody very important must have died." I said, "Somebody who was very loved died."
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I like to paint and write.
When I get an idea, I get excited. My soul sets on fire. For a brief moment...or two...fire. Fire.
Then, that second guessing rears its ugly head.
Will it be accepted? Will it offend? Will I be understood? Will I be judged?
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