Today’s prompt is numbers!
We got our license plate today!
If it hasn’t been one thing, it’s been another. But right this minute, I have Internet and I’m not weeping in physical or mental anguish, so I’m getting this show on the road.
Day 14: design
My husband has been trying to talk me into a tattoo for years. So every now and then when I make a doodle I like, I keep it, on the off chance that one day he’ll convince me. This design is probably a couple of years old.
Day 15: build
Day 16: morning
Day 17: green
Day 18: stretch
Stretchy ponytail holders, because unlike Belle, I was unable to get a cat-stretch pic.
Love to you all!
Today’s prompt is glow.
We went to Sci-Port today. Lots of glowy lights for the IMAX.
Today’s prompt is eat!
Today’s prompt is living.
I don’t think I’ve been doing too much living for, well, a long time. I get severely depressed and discouraged and then nothing really matters anymore. I try to make plans and follow through and be optimistic, but that all comes crashing down when I have a bad day, or a bad year.
What on earth could this photo possibly have to do with any of that?
The last time I visited my dad was the summer I was fifteen. He and my stepmother live in Colorado. One day they took me to some private land to play amateur archaeologist. I spent an afternoon unearthing Pueblo potsherds and pieces of flint and fool’s gold.
I’ve had those pieces for the past eighteen years in a small plastic bag. Every time I moved, I’d find them again and say ‘oh yeah, I need to display these one day.’ But I never did. Never even took them out of the bag.
A few months ago we found some shadow boxes on sale, and picked three up. I had some vague idea of filling them with Mardi Gras souvenirs or wine corks.
Three days ago we ransacked our junk storage closet, purging again, like we do every so often. The last box was all my stuff, and when I went through it, there were the potsherds.
Yesterday I put the two together, after spending two days and a night in a deep, dark, sleepless depression.
And I felt better. I felt like I’d finally accomplished something that had been waiting years for me to accomplish. I felt better about myself, and I felt proud of what I’d done. I felt like I was living, instead of hiding from life.
I try and try be inspired, and it never seems to last. But now, I’ve gotten off my butt and made myself a spot where I can do things and make things (while sitting on my butt, but hey) and have something to show for my time instead of a bookmark moved closer to the last page.
That’s living, right? Thanks to some crusty old potsherds.
Today’s prompt is love.