Between the years

There is magic in the nights between the years. Dreams come true.

There is also magic in the days. 

Frida hiding from the rain

More contemplation.

What do I want?

I am making decisions. Some of them painful. 

After so many years with my man, we are drifting apart. Realizing that we are on different boats, in a different current.

With me, hope dies very slowly.

Accepting. Being a mother, being a woman. And doing what has to be done.

Being as honest as I can stand it, and sometimes a bit more so.

Sitting with it.

And then letting it all be, drawing and painting with Eva, and loosing at noughts and crosses.

All is always well in the moment.

Watching her concentrate, the tongue peeking out. The wind throws the door closed. Dark clouds out of the blue. 

But no rain this time...

Blue people on the wall, glitter on my shirt, life encroaching and a raspberry cupcake.

Magic days to you.

Lots of love,

Iam linking to some of these lovely parties.