if it's not one thing, it's your mother...

BUT today it was actually dad's turn. appointment with a hematologist. big words. lots of quick note taking. asking questions. more tests ordered. blah, blah, blah! let's go book those appointments shall we? WHOA!

at which point I stop everyone dead in their tracks and say "is there something in particular that you are looking for?" more big words. don't worry they say. this has been building for some time. wha-T? holy hell I hate hospitals. hate doctors. hate tests and especially hate the new parking garage.

so I drop dad off at home. he doesn't want to do lunch. I consider that he is probably not hungry whereas I on the other hand want to inhale a bear. because inhaling a bear or any food of that size would instantly make me feel better, no?

but I don't. I instead go into the studio at which point I begin creating a mess:

except that at some point I found that the little pieces weren't doing it for me and so I moved to a big piece. the biggest I have ever worked on:

I lose myself in the rip, tear, and glue up to my elbows. one hour turns into two and I take a step back to admire my work at which point I notice this little guy:

looking up at me as if to say "hey mama, you okay?"

I am okay. if for even a little bit I lost myself in my art. I stopped thinking, stopped worrying and started to feel better.

in all honesty there is nothing to worry about at this point. we know nothing. there is "some" thing, but we don't know what it is. we could lose sleep over it, cry our eyes out over it, worry till our head hurts. all things that I would normally have done.

but for today I took a different approach and turned to my art.