Day 1

You know when you have a faucet leaking, that drip, drip, drip. It echoes in my head. Trying to grab my attention. Each drip is like a piercing scream that travels through my ears into my head. My mind is loving it. Yet she’s so upset. Because she’s outdoing herself, yet I’m telling her to f*ck off.

Today is a new day. Today my heart trembles, but it trembles with love. Because I’m letting it tremble, and it’s scary. It’s scary that I’m not listening to her, my mind. She has played me for many years, putting my hands behind my back, tying them tightly and telling me I’m free. This is freedom. She doesn’t realize that I know her game now. And I that I had to do is pull hard enough to rip those ties off.

It still tries to grab me. It’s reaching her arms trying to pull back my arms yet I’m not going down. She hates it.

I will live my life free. I will free it from my mind and let the love that I am that is within me come out.

Painting feelings

Saturday I woke up with a pressure on my chest. That feeling lingered. My husband got home yesterday from a gig out of state, he hadn’t slept in almost 2 days. At 3:30 pm, he was in bed until this morning around 9 am.

I felt this loneliness. This void in my chest, in my life. Sometimes I feel we are closer than ever, that our marriage is stronger than ever. Then there’s days I feel the saddest person in the world. Today was one of those days.

He got up, did some car repairs and left to run errands. My heart broke. I hadn’t seen him in a couple of days and as soon as he’s here he leaves again. I needed to get it out or at least attempt to. I took out a canvas and paint brushes and I started painting what I feel the most to paint, a face.

I see faces. They’re always in my head. I can’t really see their details but they’re always there. I don’t know why I avoid painting them. I started with a sad colorful man, and then did a second woman. Actually she’s also sad. All of my faces are sad. I think she’s actually a man. A clownish pathetic man. Maybe I’m afraid to paint them because they reflect something inside me. But what’s so wrong about that? I feel the need to get them out.

My husband saw the paintings when he came home. He liked them actually, I saw it in his face. It lit me up and made me emotional to think I block out what I shouldn’t. He told me I needed to paint my faces.

Today I make a promise to myself. I will paint those faces that linger and haunt me at times. Those faces that sit like shadows behind my thoughts. Those faces that laugh at me at times, the ones that cry with me and the ones that reflect that happiness, that twinkle in my eye. I will paint them. They need to see the world, and the world needs to see them. They exist for a reason and I have kept them in secret for way too long. Not anymore.

Today is the day

I write this while I rest before getting ready for my much anticipated concert from a hotel in Tijuana, Mexico. Mexico gets a bad reputation, but Mexico is a beautiful country with humble and caring people.

After checking in to our hotel which happens to be less than 1 mile from the concert’s venue we decide on going for lunch. My husband took me to a local seafood place, the place was packed. Like people in line outside to get in. It’s also very loud, music playing, families having a great time, busy servers and kids laughing. I take a deep breath and look down. My husband holds my hand as they direct us to a table, slowly tightening his hand around my fingers. He does that to let me know he’s there for me. He will protect me. I can count on him if I suddenly can’t take it anymore.

They sit us at a smaller section. He tells me, “I was worried, it’s a bit quieter here don’t you think?”. It is. I don’t look around. I concentrate on my husband’s face and my food. They keep me focused. We ate delicious octopus tacos.

Then it’s coffee time. We took a small stroll around the streets close to our hotel and found a great coffee place. I can see the stadium where today’s concert will be from outside the coffee place. I can’t wait. I have Xanax in case my anxiety decides to take over. I’ll be right in the front section. I’m nervous, excited and ecstatic. But it could be the Vietnamese coffee I had.

Manicure improved

I decided to invite my cousins and one of my dear friends to one of those paint and sip places. My cousin’s birthday is on Valentine’s day and we got to celebrate a bit late her day and have some laughs.


I recently lost my best friend and by lost I mean we aren’t speaking any longer. It crushed my heart. But I’m moving on. I’ve decided to spend more time with those that make me smile, the ones that don’t judge and that no matter what if we talk or not, if we see each other often or not, when we do it’s like we never left each other sides.

Laughter heals the soul in my humble opinion. Last night my soul had some much-needed healing. We shared laughs, drinks, chocolate and art. It was a perfect night.

I can still feel my gel nails. I feel a warm tiny blanket over them. I know it sounds crazy but I feel them. My husband loves my nails, he was so happy to see me try something new and that I actually enjoyed it. It’s annoying to have that strange warm feeling on my nails but I think sometimes it’s worth it. I can’t help how my body and brain feel about certain stimuli but I can choose how I react to them.


I got home with a feeling of relief and peace. Relief that I made it through another day. And peace because I was able to put my feelings of happiness on a canvas and share those moments with wonderful women. They have no idea the struggle or how much it meant for me that they took time of their busy schedules as moms and wives to do this. I secretly thanked each and every one of them.

We painted happy sunflowers. I think I was able to express my happiness of the moment onto the canvas. Isn’t that what an artist does?