They’re almost finished and I‘m crying.
I‘ve cried a lot last week.
Existential depression coupled with the struggles of motherhood and the sobering realisation that my daughter may not have children of her own if we don’t turn this ship around pronto, have brought me to my knees.
I refuse to stay there though.
Today I took some time to sketch some of my favourite roses. I used to be quite good at drawing, at a slower time of my life, but I probably haven’t done anything serious for fourteen years now, since I finished art school. Never mind, it’s the process that matters, not always the outcome, and I enjoyed being still with the roses and the pencils for an hour or two.
The garden, in all its layers, is always providing solace. - 2 hours ago