Sometimes I heal myself through art, Friends. Well…art and a steady stream of To-Do lists. That is life. For me, at least.
This smattering of memorabilia counts as both–something I’ve been wanting to tackle for a long time and something that I thought would bring a better sense of self to my living space and my life.
I call it my “Anti-Anxiety Mural,” and–much like its predecessor–it works like a charm. Like some form of spiritual nesting.
In other news: my very favorite person went out of town, and I’ve spent the weekend at home, making crafts and drinking, or baking and catching up with old friends, or drinking cocoa and watching movies in bed.
Or, you know, reading myself bedtime stories. Because I can. Because I want to. Because this is what being good to myself and living the life I want to looks like right now.
Just don’t ask me what that may look like in the future. I have no idea, and the mural’s only good for so much.