I am not done this one, but I'm posting here anyway with a little story to explain these little women.
When i was a teenager, I used to be really annoyed by constant complainers. I remember secretly wishing they'd be transported to a secluded, neglected, remote part of the world somewhere, where there was little food & they'd just be dropped off there, alone, to fend for themselves for a few months. See how long they complain after that. I now realize that it has little to do with where the complainer is physically in the world, but it has everything to do with where he or she is mentally.
Constant complainers still annoy the hell out of me, only now, i avoid them like the plague, and I no longer wish anything for them, because i know that they see the world how they want to see it.
But today, if I was to think that something may help them see things differently, it would be a little trip to the oncology center. I just came from there with my mother, who gets chemo every 3 weeks for the next few months. Again. No one visits the oncology center for the fun of it. It's no fun. On my first visit there with her, I saw a young kid, about the same age as my son, 14 or 15... pale, losing his hair, slumped shoulders - and my heart sank. My heart sinks almost every time I accompany her.
I've been with her to most of her treatments, and time & time again, I'm blown away by how random illness is. People from all walks of life & all ages sit in those big chairs & get their bodies pumped with poison in hopes that it'll make them well again. Many are optimistic, hopeful, full of courage. Others seem resigned & defeated. My mother is one who is full of courage. This doesn't mean she is not afraid, or that she knows what the outcome will be. But whenever it's time for another treatment, she goes in there with an open heart & confidence that they are doing everything they can to help her heal. Mom's optimism has taught me to find the good in every day and every one. I may not be as forgiving as she is (especially with complainers), but I'd like to think I'm getting better. :-)
I always leave the oncology center with a deep sense of appreciation. The air always smells sweeter, the trees are always greener. I leave there listening to the whispers...
This series of little women paintings came to life after mom's diagnosis & seeing how she chooses to live her life - despite the difficulties. These paintings are also expressions of love for my friend Liz, who left this world way too soon.