Ready to Live XIII Finitti




What a dream this painting was, post-surgery. It just flowed and was such a revelation and charmer to paint. It isn’t perfect, and didn’t want to be. Usually I’m such a stickler for hiding every brush stroke, but this would have been exceedingly difficult for me now. I love this painting so much. It delights me. I hope someone out there wants to take it home and have it for their own self, eh?

And why not? That’s what they are for, ultimately, to share.

So now I get to start a really dramatic painting. Now, meaning, tomorrow.

Woke with the Blues this morning. Jason came in, like, Are you getting out of bed? I took two Percocet at 11 pm because I was in so much pain, and could not get out of bed due to considerable pain, until 5 am. It was all I could do, to do that. Really argh argh with the pain. And bad dreams to boot.

I said, I’m really over this recuperative process. I just want to stay in bed. I haven’t been that way at all this whole time. What gives?

Well, the hospital survey, for one thing. The lady was all professional until she asked me how I would rate my physical and mental health. How should I rate my mental health, really? eep? So when I answered, she had kind of an unprofessional intake of breath, a response of disagreement of some sort, like I should have rated myself worse.

So that eeped me out for the afternoon.

Then someone else asked me, So what can you do? Like doing a load a laundry for the first time with Babette the grabber yesterday, driving for the first time last Friday and since, walking without the walker since last Friday (a big wow in my book), oh all sorts of little things I know about moving and dressing (little accomplishments here and there) — but what can you do? Paint. Like, can you cook? I just was flummoxed. Bah.

I was deflated.

I’m too damned sensitive, I know. But what can I do?

And to boot, I was in so much freaking pain overnight and waking up, I was just over it all. Not all of it, like in a suicidal way, mind you, but just depressed. It happens. The floor drops out on me from time to time. I guess it’s normal for anyone healing from major surgery. Right?

But the day has gotten better. I did finish the painting, and I LOVE it. I made some important phone calls and got ANSWERS.

Oh. I can’t put up a link to The Puffin Foundation 2011 Grantees section yet because it won’t be up for about a month, but I will when it is ready. Guaranteed.

In a much better mood now and took two Percocet and a Skelaxin because my pain was still great and it was time for meds. Now time for a warm compress and chillaxin. Thank you all for listening, as always. I’m hanging in. Best I can do. And I’m looking forward to the long weekend, too! Yay! See, even the Blues can turn around in half a day. 🙂 Namaste.

About amyjacksoncc

I am a professional artist, writer and musician creating from my home studio. To view my artwork, visit
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