I am still sorting through photos taken last November when I stayed with my sister during her last weeks on the planet. I enjoyed walking through the damp neighborhoods, snapping pics, hoping to paint certain scenes. These small white blossoms were lovely and prolific and beautiful. Was taken aback — gorgeous blooming front yards right there in chilly, wintry Seattle! I started this small painting yesterday after returning from doing volunteer work in the Marin Headlands which takes the better part of a day. After cleaning myself up I wanted to get my paints out and do a small work. The very act of taking a wet paintbrush, loaded with Daniel Smith watercolor pigments, and splashing it over a chunk of clean white paper soothes and focuses me.

I had sort of a light bulb moment the other day — these days of grief and recovery and healing are necessary, however wrenching. Remember a million years ago when forest fires were often a good thing, before terrible outer space villains started focusing laser beams on California in order to destroy the state (wish I just made that up)? When flames burned off the undergrowth, without harming the trees, making the whole ecosystem healthier and happier? Well I sort of feel like that. Times like these are painful, and even feel dangerous at times, but crap gets burnt off I don’t need. Detritus goes up in smoke. I am seared into a better version of myself. Trust in myself deepens. Wish it wasn’t so damn uncomfortable, but I think it’s all good. I do keep my fire extinguisher nearby though. Must mind the embers. Or find some asbestos socks.

6″ x 6″ watercolor, pen, acrylic ink on paper = $45