this is the day i started to howl

i struggled to the surface and whispered good morning to a house whose rooms were empty and was grateful that last night i’d had the foresight to make overnight oats loaded with plump berries and shredded coconut and i’m on trend because my breakfast is made of superfoods,

because i really couldn’t be bothered to tend to my needs beyond a cup of tea.

that first eyes-closed sip always promises peace and bliss if only for the time it takes to swallow.

and as i pulled my tank top over my head i spied the cross that serves as a bullet-proof vest upon my fair skin, jesus at my shoulder for eternity, even when i don’t feel him.

i harvested vegetables that i did not have a hand in bringing to life. i’m afraid to taste them in case i plucked them from the plant too early. i am clueless in such matters. and they felt prickly, which put me off further and so instead of a fresh salad, lunch was nothing more than tipping cereal into a bowl with a splash of soy milk, and i did go back for seconds, not because i was still hungry but because i forgot to take a photo. i ate the second bowl anyway.

happy mail from daniel smith.

no, daniel smith happy mail from senior art. because sometimes i have to paint watercolours on crazy thin paper, and the only way around it is to make that paper toothy, and i will hopefully never buy the crazy thin paper journal to document my life ever again but i probably will because sometimes i just want the thing that everybody else has even if it’s not what i need.

and oh, botticelli, i love your work, but i’m afraid to paint you. i keep finding excuses to stay away and when i glimpse your roughly sketched out madonna, i flinch with guilt and back out of the room with the stealth of a disguised criatura (which is a word i stumbled across whilst reading about wild women).

and i thought it might be nice to pursue my wildish nature beyond a jesus-god sunset.

because i cannot be without it a minute longer.

i should probably start with the botticelli.

Photo and words for Full Circle workshop with Misty Mawn.

And me.

Botticelli painting in progress for Studying Under the Masters with Jeanne Oliver (Botticelli lesson by Jenny Wentworth).

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