Especially to the Girl at the Library, so into reading “City of Bones” she didn’t stop to watch where she walked… (I can only assume you go to PS.95, because of how young & petite you are, although I went to MS.143 around the bend & couldn’t have been an inch bigger. Apologies for not getting your name.)
Normally an internet embargo on my part means I’m up to artistic doings and preparing for a flood of creative-goodness. And maybe this is, in a lengthy roundabout distinctly unfun way— in November of 2010 I sought treatment for problems with my joints, specifically my wrists & knees. And in the logical progression, for the depression that would follow. By December (17th to be morbidly precise) tremors and weakness in my hands made it difficult if not impossible to brush teeth, comb hair, open doors, type and if you haven’t guessed yet, draw.
Anyone local, or who saw me over New Years/MoCCA Artfest certainly noted I am sporting my time-tested knee & hand braces once more! Tried and true little buggers they are. But by February physical therapy was proven ineffective. Now all sorts of experts have started poking, Ortho, Vascular, Neurological, etc.
I’ve never been a super healthy person but even at my worst, I’ve always had art to keep my sane. Going into my seventh month of being incapable of creating, commuting or even computing, I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared—
- And then I get a praise from my ambulance driver (‘sup Anesdi)
- And then I get written up in a school paper.
- And then get things like this forwarded to me;
Phrases like “Courage” and “Fearless” aren’t banter for me, they’re works of art. Now I am learning “Faith” is as well.
Things are going to get harder before they get better but I feel like a fighter again.
Thank you for that :)