Art Therapy

I balanced the chequebook in the morning. That always makes me fiesty.
The boys dumped all the toys for no reason. I was annoyed.
The collections agency called over the bogus Orbitz bill (that is tomorrow’s post, I promise) even though it hadn’t been 30 days since the last time they called and I reminded them that I knew the law regarding this situation. I was furious.

Things come in threes, don’t they?

It was a holiday. Daytime Brother was with his mother, and Paul was home with us. We stuck to the plan, and went to LACMA. It rained on the city of angels with a shower of redemption. It rained like I hadn’t seen since Virginia, Michigan, Hawaii, Vancouver. It felt like home. It felt so good.

(This photo doesn’t do the quantity of water justice, but I love the way the water ripples past Paul’s shoes.)

We took the boys to LACMA in the rain. We started by painting in the children’s gallery. We toured many of the permanent exhibits. We meandered through the gift shop and I, while not a shopper by nature, felt the familiar tug of wanting to buy this and this and this. Nothing makes me want to open my wallet like a museum store. We came home and the boys asked to paint some more. So they did. They painted on paper, on the table, and on themselves (each other? My back was turned.)

During the day from the rain and the art, I was healed.  I am myself again. Thank you.

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