Sunday mornings, coffee, quiet and I paint. Like someone threw the window of my soul open after a long week at work and for awhile I remember who I am. A moment in my week when I am no longer defined by my health, my job or external circumstances.
Additional note 1/15/18
I think I’m finally done with revisions. She reminds me of growing up. I loved pretty clothes and fancy hair but then I’d walk to school though the swamp because it was more interesting than the view from the streets. My poor mother. My poor shoes.