She wanders into her studio.
A splash of paint and a scrap of paper later she finds a bit of peace.
Alone and weary she hits the button on the CD player. The low solemn chords of the cello reach her soul and she feels life begin to mellow.
Forlorn and lost
She settles on the deck, opening her journal, she pens a few phrases and her spirit swells.
(This was written just before learning of Mom's gall bladder. The pic is of her sun room before daybreak-where I met God each morning to fuel me for the day.)
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