I miss my mother dreadfully. I miss her so much. I was missing her as she used to be during all the months she faded and failed. Now I possess her loss complete and it is agonizing. I want her back, oh, but I want her back.
It’s so beautiful, so powerful. And, because I’m an artist myself, its message expresses something deep within my own heart.
Every artist who shares her work with others must brave the indifference or contempt of her audience. Every artist who creates must confront her own implacable inner judge.
“It is not the critic who counts;
not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles,
or where the doer of deeds could have done them better.
The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena…”
Whenever I see sunlight shining through tree leaves or blades of grass, it seems magical: Nature’s stained glass windows.
As the year winds into autumn, I’ve been getting my morning sunlight on my front porch. The back deck, on the west side of my home, is perfect for the warm weather of summer. It’s shady and catches the least hint of breeze. In cool weather, that hint of breeze turns into gusts of wind, and the shadows chill. Thus my change of venue. 😀
The front yard is sheltered and sunny. On mild days – like today – the pocket of warmth means I can doff my hat and gloves! (I’ve been wearing a fingerless glove on my right hand, so that I can write in my journal while I’m outside.)
The trees across the street have been particularly beautiful, with the rising sun shining through them.