I’ve left the can open and he’s 16 months and he tips it, white on carpet on wall and there’s so much white I laugh.

Soap and water and clean what son has spilled and it’s the one place I can breathe. This easel, this canvas, my church. This place between brush and canvas, this place between paint and world. I find calm with color, and suddenly I believe again.

Friends, join me here at beautiful Laura’s place today…

(may you know Easter full in your souls this weekend… my your hearts resurrect and your eyes find new light dawning… i am visiting my family this weekend; will be back with you on Tuesday)