A Grandmother's Journey into the Winter Years

     Sometimes I'm at a loss for words. Throughout my life I have realized that when I feel verbally challenged, it's better to get prolific in other ways. I'm posting a couple of digital collages that show a beginning of a process emerging in the past couple of weeks.

     When I feel stuck, I do self portraits, or collages. I have joined the two this time.  It's not because I'm so in love with myself that I engage in this practice of self portraiture, but because first, I'm the only model around that will sit still for a couple of hours, and secondly it's been a way to access unconscious feelings I have about myself, or unfulfilled dreams. Believe me, as I get older, it is more of a desperate act than one of vanity, but I do find that I start to love that image. It's not because it is an icon of beauty in the conventional sense, but because I begin to feel the inner beauty. I begin to embrace this realization, and treat it accordingly.

     I think most people at some point just accept the hand dealt to them in life. Every human vehicle is a gift. Whether we think we're too ugly, too fat, too skinny , too hairy, too bald, or even just too beautiful (some people actually complain about that). Every incarnation, every human possibility has its gifts, and cost. The best way is to receive the gift, and pay the cost, is to stay spiritually aware. Being a  humble servant of the truth is the best option for staying happy in this world of endless possibilities.

     Much love to all of you my friends.