Today’s frivolous subject: What is love? How do you define it, whether lover-to-lover or daddy-to-daughter or friend-to-friend or gramma-to-grandbaby or sister-to-brother? Well, you can’t, not completely, unless maybe you teach philosophy at UC Berkeley, or are a poet laureate, and probably not then either. I’m pondering these things as I learn new ways of being in the world. Maybe it’s just as I turn into an old lady, maybe it’s because I ponder death and am in the stupor-inducing, all-consuming process of grieving my dead sisters. Don’t know, but the older I get the more I believe the Beatles lyrics, All You Need is Love. 

And here is a stunning (only to me) moment of soul transmogrification — I seriously believe, I think for the first time in my life, that I am loved! Isn’t that somethin’? That realization is soaking deeply into my bones. I grew up in a mangled family where love was scarce and sadness and loneliness abundant. Not big news, or even remotely unusual, but those dreary notions of sparse possibilities formed my threadbare perceptions of living. I decided about 30+ years ago that I’d pursue healing and therapy and psychological help to the ends of the earth, if it would help me become whole and have a more satisfying life and be a better human, and — Bob’s your uncle! Here I am, living fairly largely. And beginning, astonishingly in my experience, to truly feel loved. A brand-new experience, and wow it’s amazing. Am I getting married, you might wonder? Have I recently been dazzled by new romance? No. Nothing really has changed except my insides. With tons of help and buckets of counseling and spiritual guidance, my heart is mending. 

So this painting of an open, lush magnolia blossom feels like an appropriate illustration of an open heart and a life with hope and faith. I am truly flabbergasted and blazing with gratitude.

9″ x 12″ sticks-and-ink, watercolor, acrylic on paper = $140