The Universe Smiles

I was cleaning out a drawer in my office There it was under a pile of sketchbooks. A notebook, a ledger I used for many years. Just lists of names, dates and progress on portraits, pageful after pageful. There must have been thousands. The whole notebook full seemed like an artifact of a life I no longer had. Before Dad and Grandma got sick and I was left to myself back in the woods.

I roll it up as best I can and light a match.
I stuff it in the wood stove with a couple of sticks.

It warms me.


I sell seven paintings.

I have let go of my security blanket.


As many times in my life I make a decision and the weight lifts off me, even when I don’t feel it there at all to begin with.



Leap, the net will appear.