And I’m glad I took a news-feed break the weekend before election night. I needed it.
If I had woken up to discover a Trump presidency, I would have been more confused than I am having watched it happen. I was resigned, if not resolved, by the time I went to bed.
There is no humor in me. Jax is trying to make jokes this morning. I want to kill him.
Instead, I’m going to marathon “Keeping Up With The Kardashians,” and disengage for as long as I can. It will settle in. The pain will subside. Only 4 years.
There will be no revolution. This was the revolution.
Only 4 years. Only 4 years.
The nice thing about middle-age is how quickly time passes.
Only 4 years.
I must be careful what thoughts and energy I put into the new drum I’m working. We need prayer and peaceful intention now more than ever. I’m hoping it will help to heal my broken heart, to focus on art and what these drums have come to represent for me. Drawing the mandala, especially, is meditation. Painting it feels like celebration.
Hopefully, by the time it’s ready to be painted I can feel joy again.
I’m so ashamed. I’m in shock. I hate my country.
I’VE NEVER FELT THAT IN MY LIFE.