I had to sit down and paint yesterday. It is so soothing to my soul to mix paint and use a real brush. The results aren't as important as the progress. I'm working on not rushing anything, working slow and savoring all the little details.
Yesterday J asked me while we were about to go to sleep, if I could tell him something. Just anything I wanted. This is something he's done ever since I met him and I thought I would have run out of things to tell him by now, but no.. So yesterday night in the darkness I told him a dream of mine, that I've always wished I would find myself the owner of a mysterious old house somewhere and that the house would have a huge garden that was like a forest you could get lost in. There would be wild rose bushes, ponds with blind fish and little winding path ways you could follow to find new things to play with every day. I want a secret garden with little benches made out of old mossy stone and with the pale sunlight glittering through the leaves of the old oaks. That is what I told J yesterday, and that is sort of the theme of my painting too.