The Truth is: It's Monday

Laundry Day. This is a fifteen minute sketch of my laundry room done while I was spotting two favorite "destination" tee shirts. My laundry room is a long way from Puerto Vallarta. But it's the mundane truth of the day. Today, I do laundry. And I will iron that black shirt I should have sent to the cleaners with Honey, but chose to wash myself. It's been hanging there waiting for me ever since we got home.

Yesterday's free association painting, which began as a simple drawing of my ice pack, showed the momentary truth in my life as well. I was in a quandary about when to do my knee, and I was antsy about making a decision. The drawing clearly said that and more with it's harsh lines, gaudy colors and images. It showed my anger. It showed my fear. And when it was done, it told me I had to act. I made the decision: next January, right after New Years.

Drawing and painting is a second language we can all speak and comprehend. All of us used to know how, but over the years lost the skill. When we were given our first box of crayons and stack of typing paper,(coloring books were too rigid for me), we jumped in with gusto. We would sit for hours entertaining ourselves drawing stories about the things we had on our minds. Then we lost it. We went to art class where there was a right way and a wrong way;you couldn't draw out of your head. they had subject matters,new materials, methods and rules. Some of us could follow them. Some of us couldn't. Some of us didn't give a damn. And a few of us recognized we were just being given some more tools for our crayon box. I was one of those. By then, I knew that drawing and painting would always be an important form of expression when words failed and I wanted to get to the truth of the matter: Today, that black blouse.