After the horrible incident, I hid myself in painting, something I'd never done but always wanted to try. Needless to say, it was very therapeutic. I mainly painted color, paintings that made sense to me and probably nobody else. When I moved to Portland, I gave them to my friend Sarah (who moved into my trailer after me). When I visited her a couple weekends ago, I was delighted to see them hanging on her entry way wall! They brought back so many memories and a strong sense of accomplishment (not only in the paintings themselves but in my life and in my healing).
I am getting back into painting. But this time, instead of using painting as a form of therapy, it is my form of rejoicing!
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