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Washed Away

Since my beautiful trip to New Orleans I have felt a surge of creativity.  I have spent hours each evening painting, sketching and doodling.  The big desk in my study is a wonderful mess, covered in papers, paint and books.  I feel an internal tug from my soul each evening to go sit on my chair and let all the stresses of the day get washed away by my paintbrushes.

Creativity heals.  It is my daily mediation, my temple, my home.  All I need is me, my papers and paints.  It has taken me forty ones years to realise it.  And now that I have, nothing gives me greater joy.

This is one relationship which will keep growing and evolving.  It is one which I will nurture in this life and the next, and the next after that.

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