Purge Before Sleep.

I am really tired, and should likely go to bed. But I wanted to write something, first, before it fades from my thoughts to share. I am also, by the way, noting the time as I begin to write this, 23:42.

I am having such an interesting time with numbers these days. I keep noticing the clock at "pattern" times: 555, 1234, 123, 1111, 1212 and other times like that. It has been happening for a while. On my trip last year, there was a point when my GPS said 555 miles to the next destination, and the next time it announced mileage, it was 444 miles to the destination.

I was told yesterday that it is likely "reassurance" that I am getting all of these patterns/repetitions.

At the moment, I am sitting here, wrapped by an ace bandage around my mid-section. It was recommended that I spread some particular oils there, and then wrap the area up. It tends to get quite toasty. Good thing the weather is cooling down. If it was summer, it would most assuredly suck.

What else?

Oh. I was just thinking earlier about how I don't really have much time, nor effort, to spare these days to want to put make-up on. I am getting used to a make-up free me. I don't know that that is the version of me that I prefer, but I am just so energy deficient for things like that. I am too busy using what energy I have to try to manage to survive. I mention it, though, because I am not really OK with it. A part of me is sad that it isn't more of a choice. Some might say it is a choice, but it would be difficult for me to agree - given my current situation and circumstances. It is about this time in things that I would pull out the make up and a wig and do a nice picture.

We'll see.

Ok. So. To the meat of what I had wanted to write about. Today, as I painted, I began to sob. It is the first time that has happened. I was painting something, and feeling very emotional at the same time. The more I painted, the more emotional I became until I was sobbing deeply. There was so much in the painting. It is difficult to describe without sharing it. And I am not sure I am ready to share it.

I am still hoping to have a show when these 40 days are up. I am contemplating continuing to paint every day, even after I have met the goal. I did not look at the art as "therapy," in the same way that I did not look at my trip last year as me trying to "find the meaning of life" or "find myself." I just LIVED. I just did what I felt was right. It wasn't easy, and the path wasn't clear, but I just made a step, and just kept going.

I have had no idea what would come out when I painted. NONE. If I got conscious about it, and tried to figure it out, I most assuredly would be paralyzed. But each day I just sit down and start to paint, and see what shows up along the way.

As I listened to the music today as I was painting, I felt that it was telling a story, and the strokes of my paintbrush and hand moved with the music, creating one of the most fascinating images that I have done so far.

If you know anyone who could help me have a show, or of any galleries I could talk to, please let me know. This is a thought I don't want to let go of. I should, at some point, see what I can do to have conversations, but right now I am too busy painting and creating jewelry. If you haven't seen what I have been up to, please check out Cedonaah's Facebook Page.

As you can tell, my head is all over the place. It is partly why I decided to write, despite needing to sleep. I am hoping this purging will help me rest better.

Sweet dreams when you get there.