I spent much of the day yesterday nursing a migraine...
by 8pm last night, i was feeling a little better & thought i would venture into my blue room...
At this point, i knew this one was not meant to be a happy face... :-)
So i just let it go where it wanted to go.
...and in the end, it's not so bad.
It kinda gives a face to the word MIGRAINE, doesn't it?
I just hope i don't look like this when i get them. :-)
On another note, I want to share a little story about my father.
My father was a carpenter. A good one. A respected one.
He's been officially retired for several years,
although he's kept himself busy with odd jobs here & there.
Then a year ago, he had a severe heart attack, and needed open heart surgery.
He could no longer do the things he used to do.
He needed to scale down, big time.
It took a while to adjust, but eventually he did, and within months of being back home
he made this...
A birdhouse / bird feeder.
Dad doesn't do anything half assed.
These little birdhouses reminded me that even when life changes drastically,
and so many things are taken away from you,
the need for creative expression remains.
The need to have purpose. The need to feel useful.
And for a carpenter like my father,
the profound need to do something with his hands. To make something.
I think i understand
where i get my art heart. :-)
Where do you get your art heart?
