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Sheltering-in-Place: Day 52

A woman is walking on tall posts above blackness. The posts seem to be joining with a lighter, more solid surface. The text on the image reads  Remember the blue dress that could have been a kite? It’s a skirt now.

The text on the image reads

Remember the blue dress that could have been a kite?
It’s a skirt now.

 

I'm boldly moving forward, one stitch at a time. I'm a little worn out from all of it, like everyone else. I'm going to keep it short today.

One stitch, one step, feels like so little and sounds like even less. It isn't, though. There are 52 of these drawings. They each comprise at least one step—sometimes backwards or sideways. I delete a lot of lines of text and reshape all sorts of blobby painting shapes. I burned some food. I think I lightly sprained my ankle while dance-ercising. I melted a little fabric with the iron last night. It's okay, though, because I write a lot of lines of text, finish my drawings, eat mostly yummy things, an ankle will heal, and a creative solution solved the melted fabric problem. 

The further along in this process I get, the more it feels like there's a sturdy base behind me. And I think it's catching up—in a good way.