The other week I ate handfuls of Belgium chocolate almost without noticing. It wasn’t mindless or accidental. It was deliberate and avoidable, but I chose to do it. And then I paid for the choice in pounds. I’m now making the choice to paint my feelings instead of eating them. I’ve got 9 lbs. to release now. It all starts with the commitment to disrupt the routine that’s not working with a new one that does. So far, what’s been working is painting and sketching at night instead of eating. I love it. It brings me so much joy.
I wish I could do nothing all day except paint and drink tea and snuggle my beans and reprimand Abigail about brushing her knotted homeless hair. I feel like hair is just a thing between mothers and daughters. I get frustrated when she leaves the shower with knots still in her hair. And she’s rightly very private about her time in the shower. She doesn’t let me come in and remind her to use the conditioner, and she yells at the top of her lungs when I try to bring it up before or afterward. Then there’s the inevitable sit down, where I’m pulling matted knots from her hair with a Wet Brush. Holy hell why?
I think next I’ll paint a photo of Abby with unknotted hair.
