Silence

I have not done much painting, when life takes me off on some perhaps unwanted adventures, I tend to draw and read and watch videos and walk, anything to take me out of my mind and thinking. This unwanted adventure was that my car died in the beginning of November, so for many months I have been without a car, except I have had loans from friends and I have gotten by. I had very little savings for a car, so I have had my mom's Jeep sent to me from Oregon, it will arrive this coming week, thank God. I had to pay a small fortune to have the car shipped, no one wants to drive a car in the dead of Winter through mountain passes, so shipping seemed the best option. If you ever ship a car talk to me first, I can save you a lot of suffering :-).
The up side it that I will have a small piece of my mother in that Jeep and that gives my comfort. Also through it all I have had to let go of many things and thoughts. I have learned yet again that thinking is what causes suffering. Getting still and letting go of worry has saved me through this process. I pass this wisdom on to you :-).
I leave you with something I read and loved and it relates to living in the moment which is all we ever have, don't miss it. Soon I hope to have something to show you.
XOXO
* I picked up my Jeep this morning 1/20/15, Yay.

I have just touched my dog. He was rolling on the grass, with pleasure in every muscle and limb. I wanted to catch a picture of him in my fingers, and I touched him as lightly as I would cobwebs; but lo, his fat body revolved, stiffened and solidified into an upright position, and his tongue gave my hand a lick! He pressed close to me, as if he were fain to crowd himself into my hand. He loved it with his tail, with his paw, with his tongue. If he could speak, I believe he would say with me that paradise is attained by touch; for in touch is all love and intelligence.

…I am glad to take you by the hand and lead you along an untrodden way into a world where the hand is supreme. But at the very outset we encounter a difficulty. You are so accustomed to light, I fear you will stumble when I try to guide you through the land of darkness and silence. The blind are not supposed to be the best of guides. Still, though I cannot warrant not to lose you, I promise that you shall not be led into fire or water, or fall into a deep pit. If you will follow me patiently, you will find that “there’s a sound so fine, nothing lives ‘twixt it and silence,” and that there is more meant in things than meets the eye.

—Helen Keller, The World I Live In