Signed with My Thumb Print

Check it out, dudes!

My first painting, ever!

 

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It was SO MUCH fun!! But I had no clue what I was doing. My sister, who is going to college to become an art therapist, led me through the process, showing me what to do as she painted her own.

Get out of your comfort zone and do something fun! If you’re one kind of creator, try another way of creating.

Go have fun!

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Hope in the Dark

I’d been having a few really hard weeks in a row. Things that a person can’t control kept stacking up on me. I’d work real hard to better myself but health issues would wipe away any signs of visible progress. I was hurting.

Hadn’t given up. But I was struggling. To keep positive. To keep my head above water. To feel like there was a purpose to my striving to become better, healthier. To connect with why I was fighting, why I kept pushing and trying and trying when nothing good came of it.

Feeling like a burden. Like because I was so unhealthy and sensitive that I was useless and a negative draw on those I loved, even when I was honestly positive and trying to help them.

 

Then I get this random message.

 

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From a woman who has fought injustices and misery to an extent that I just sit in awe of her. She is so strong. A warrior who carries a smile and a frighteningly magickal voice. So wise beyond her years and so, so youthful beyond her trials. She has always been so raw and vulnerable, so gorgeously honest and real and brave. Uplifting.

She has every right to be all kinds of bitter.

But she’s not. Instead, she shares her story with others. She lifts those around her.

A rare person indeed.

A person who sees other people. Truly sees them.

 

She messages me and asks if I’d like something she’s created.

In my fumbling, messy way, I try to explain how honored I am. Though a little sad that I can’t buy it to support her.

You see…

This woman is a creator. Most creators struggle to make money from their art. Especially since artists are shamed for selling their products for *gasp* money. As if we don’t owe creators for bettering our lives.

So when I find someone I like, I don’t care if they’re living on a mountain in a castle made of gold. I want to spend my money on them. Give them a review. Share their awesome creations.

This woman is asking if I’d like her product, for Christmas.

 

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I kinda just broke a little, you know?

But in a good way. A fantastic way. A marvelous, needed, healthy, wakeful way.

In the way that you wake up and realize you’re sleeping walking through a muddy, dirty, and deepening pit when there’s an escalator not a foot away. Clean and free and ready for use. All you have to do is clean up.

I broke in the way that happy tears flow and my heart and head both agree. They remember joyful emotions and hugs and smiles and memories and future hopes and dreams. They remembered strength.

The strength of soft flowers in a storm. Of small infants in a world of noise. Of baby deer, struggling joyfully to their feet for the first time. The strength of love that isn’t cheapened with lies or half measures or abandonment.

When your heart and head agree, you know all will be alright. And it probably already is.

 

I am so grateful for this woman. I celebrate this woman.

This season isn’t about gifts or cards or price tags. It isn’t about trees or candles or decorations.

This season is about hope. Love. Rebirth. Harmony.

It is about remembering to live with joy and purpose and the strength of vulnerability.

This woman is also a dinosaur. You might know of her. If you do, you already know she’s all of those things and more than I could ever put into words.

 

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We need people like this. To shake us awake.

This season can be so painful. Stressful. Unhappy.

When it was created for just the opposite of things. The little moments where love can soothe all the broken and hurting things in and around us. Where hope can bridge the gap between differences. Where truth isn’t about facts or what we can prove, but what we feel and know in our heart and mind and soul.

This season is so much more. We deserve so much more.

The love poured into my life when I’m dangling by a thread always makes me want to do better, be better. Become worthy of the kindness absorbed into my skin by those willing to share what this world so easily burns at the stake.

 

We need each other.

We can better this world. Even if it’s only for one person.

Be someone’s reminder. Be someone’s hope. Bring joy to someone. It doesn’t have to be a big huge ordeal. The little things. The little things can mean so much more than we realize. They can open heart. Or grow scar tissue over broken hearts, leaving inside a spark of something to be wished for. The little things are rarely ever, little.

Accept the same from another.

 

Thank you, Ra.

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