My currently-favorite Rusted Root song is carrying me through the doubts and insecurities that come with applying to this art exhibit. The piece is ready, I’m delivering the CD and application today.
I rather suddenly became certain last night that the piece won’t be accepted. My reasoning isn’t that it isn’t great- I feel good about it. My certainty is that it won’t fit with the rest of the submissions which I anticipate to me much more graceful and quiet and elegant. Bu agrees, and shrugged that it might be too different to be included but also affirmed it awesomeness.
Motherhood isn’t fluffy cuddliness and pink roses. It’s animally, growly fierceness and like… mama bear. And bloody. Primal. ‘Specially with no epidural. *goofy but proud warrior mama grin*
I’ll wait to show you the finished whole thing, but here is another detail. I’m not trying to be all artificial and inflated egoish with the suspense; I’m just listening to intuition that says Wait. I’m kind of hesitant to slap it up online with a real name copyright watermark and equally scared to do so without. Meh.
“All I want is food and creative love.”