Commit the feelings to paint? I shrink back instantly.
That said, I acknowledge my recurring self-protective resistance and head to my studio anyway.
I pick up a brush. The brush is a gateway. I shift reflexively into painting mind, into an open, neutral space. I find myself all in—with color, texture, decision-making, and the physical and sensory activity. No hesitation, no uncomfortable feelings.
Contracted and vulnerable again.
Here's what's at stake. I didn't always feel worthy of love and belonging when I was with Mom—I scrambled for her love and defended myself over and over again against the possibility that I wouldn't feel it.
Guess I'm still scrambling, aren't I, Mom!
I've painted this painting. Written these words. Now I'm posting. All is well.
10x8", mixed media on watercolor paper