A Blue Apocalypse Dawn (Original Art)

20” X 20” X 1.5”

Oil Pastel, Acrylic

I haven’t touched a paint brush since May.

MAY!  

There isn’t time.  Every day is a dramatically frantic run to the end and I am deliriously tired.

In the extremely rare moment there could be time, there is too much upheaval, too much noise.  I retreat to my safe place, the one room untouched by chaos, my small sunlight second room and hang out with my cat. 

I am not stressed, perhaps a little sad sometimes.  These last few weeks of the story that is just of him and I, they are so crowded and full of fires to be put out.  I want to sleep in.  I want to paint.  I want my sweetheart to have time to sleep in. I want one more day in the strange and beautiful place called Yellowstone.  Just one more day that is just about him and I wandering about a new place holding each other’s sunburnt hand. 

I am excited and happy for what’s next.  I am grateful to be with the most bossy and ultimately capable human on the planet.  

My body is heavy now; so heavy and busy and rich.  And every morning I am even heavier then before and it is harder to get to the bathroom to brush my teeth. 

I dreamed of this little girl last night.  She and he were discussing, in serious tones, Why, why Exactly, the swing that goes up then swings down.  They waved hands, heads tilted up and back as they talked about Why the clouds built in some ways rather then others and Why they dispersed.   I dreamed about the moment all parents face when they mourn their pre-parent selves.   I dreamed I loved him and her in a rashly raw and ludicrous way I didn’t know I could before.

Ah the anticipation of being first time parents...

It is the cobalt wild mustang, watching the rise of a fierce red dawn.

.....And I am out of Popsicles...