I took a class in art journaling today, which mostly consisted of us working quietly at home while connected by Zoom. In spite of the weird circumstances, it was inspiring. We began by writing for 10 minutes on how we felt at this point about the whole Covid/fire situation (that's the background of the picture), then working from there. Since I hadn't done much artwork since my 40s, I figured I'd be rusty and dogged by a need for perfection, which wasn't going to happen. I turned out several pages; this is the first.
Text reads:
Joy! It's that moment when activity ceases and you discover the power of stillness. And in stillness there's time to think.
August 29, 2020
Perfection is the death of joy.
I may be winning, but I'm SO tired.
I'm so done with this.
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