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And It Stoned Me To My Soul…

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Huh. I actually created something during kemo the other day. It’s a curious thing…..

“And It Stoned Me To My Soul…”
by Janet L. Whitehead 2012

My creative play healing sketchbooks.

One or the other or both of these sketchbooks go with me most places. One is mostly full of Evalee and Lainey’s artworks.  How healing is that to watch the little ones fill your sketchbook?  The other is full of quirky thank you cards in process, stories as I sit on a curb with my bald head, crazy thoughts. Somedays I wonder if I’ll ever actually finish anything… but mostly I’m thankful that I know of this secret and wondrous place of creativity that can reveal magic, insights, or simply lift my spirits, just by my ‘showing up’ and even doing the most crappy of doodles.  I was actually a little surprised looking back at “And it stoned me”… cuz man, I was pretty stoned. It’s a curious sketch, that one.  And yes, the sign on the door does say, “Jelly Rolls.”

How “Nothing” on a Sad Day can Create Magic.

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“Do something” I say to myself.

‘What’ crashes around me, crashes.

So much spiralling, out of my control

Into a splatter of dreams gone awry.

A “Hey! Wait a sec! That was my dreams!”

Has no effect.

“Do something” I say to myself.

No energy to plan, to map out new dreams.

Niggling shadow whispers, ‘That might crash, too’

Bright side says, “So what shall you do?”

Her smile almost annoying.

Some pouting is normal.

She repeats, “What, in this moment, can feed your soul?”

I ponder homemade ginger beer.

A sketch or a doodle or a splatter of mud.

A tidbit of the novel. Some nature commune.

A visit. A phonecall. Some little kid play.

My body is sore. My mind is too weary.

“Do something” I say to myself.

“Can you do nothing. Just nothing. And that be okay?” Ms. Bright has her say.

“Whatever.” I pout.  And I wonder, “Where’s the magic today?”

So nothing I do.

“Wild Horses couldn’t Drag Me Away”
Photo by Susanne Kriwtschenko
Outlining what I see: Janet L. Whitehead

But an image catches my eye.

I doodle its outline. I hear a whisper of song.

“Wild Horses couldn’t drag me away..”

And all of me smiles; shadow, bright and just me.

It is the spirit of my brother that whispers.

Now I know he is still near.

The magic has happened.

The struggles become minute placed beside such a connect.

I shall do nothing more.


ps. “So shall I” announces Shadow

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