I am exhausted when I go to sleep last night. Not exactly sure why, does it matter?
I sleep through out the night- well I wake several times but I do not get up. There were dreams that I once remembered but now have forgotten. When I do wake at a normal hour, I realize my spine is stiff.

I take a shower, hoping the hot water will help. I think about being an artist. I question even thinking about being an artist, or writing about being an artist. I speak aloud in the shower, as my thoughts come tumbling forward. "Egotistic, self absorbed, narcissistic, out of touch with the real world, selfish." These are the usual suspects that rear their heads when things are going somewhat well. I was thinking about the types of work I used to do. I remind myself that I have worked, that I am still working. This has always been a struggle of mine. Work vs. work. Labor vs. Art. Art equals labor(?). Anyway, this is all going around and around in my head. Suddenly, I think what if in this shower all these thoughts could evaporate into the steam and that suddenly I might be able to just accept that I am what I am, that I have always been this, that I don't have to fit in the hole, that I am a square peg.

Shower over, the thoughts starting to quiet. I move about the house doing usual morning things, one song that I haven't heard in ages on repeat. This song makes me happy. I look outside and see the sun on the green leaves, I feel the cool spring air coming in the windows. I make my tea and suddenly an undercurrent of joy spreads out over me and even tears come to my eyes for how lucky I am, for all the wonderful people I know near and far, and for all the paintings I have created.

Something has shifted.