Letters in Rememberance and Final Wishes

 

I'm overflowing with inspiration and not quite enough successful use of my time to get it out.  Palettes.  Color palettes.  More color palettes.  Let me bring my camera and take a picture of every beautiful palette I've ever seen.  Let me recreate art with THESE beautiful colors!  I've got to change some things in order to let these inspirations thrive.  Cell phones are for daytime.  Daughter time, painting, songwriting, and reading are for nighttime.  No more texting or checking my phone at night time--it doesn't produce anything creative really.  It just distracts from the now and the things I could be creating. 

I leave for Seattle in two days for a vacation.  Sometimes I wonder if I'll end up in Seattle or Portland indefinitely; but for now, I am in Shreveport.  And Shreveport is where I need to be happy and present for now.  I can't wait to see mountains and fresh, cool air.  I already feel like the air here smells different and feels cooler, just thinking about being elsewhere--being there.

I wrote a letter to my daughter, in case the plane were to crash.  (Melancholy--apologies.  Let me rephrase).  I wrote a letter to my daughter so that some day I can read the letter to her--thoughts from a past experience and a younger her and I.  I started crying while I wrote the letter, overcome with such love that I never knew was possible.  I think about her little face and precious little cheeks and chin, and I just want to hold her and love her while I have her so tiny and fully mine.  She will always be this special to me.  But there really is something about her full trust of me and getting to explain what the sky is or the moon is--this time with her really is magical.  I could spend every day with her for the rest of my life and be happy.  I hate that she has to grow up.  I hope that she never leaves me, but I know that is selfish to think.  I hope that she lets me come with her, really.  I hope she lets me come with her when she is a strong, powerful woman who knows what she wants.  I hope she still wants me.  I love you, honey.

Very difficult just thinking about not being with her for a few days. 

(Some day, I'd like to get this all printed in book format--pictures and all.  Even the silly posts or the difficult-to-read posts.  I'd like to get a copy printed for Evelyn.  I'd like her to know everything).