It was George not me.

So it looks like things might be slowly starting to get back to 'normal' not that I feel particularly normal right now. It always takes me a while to settle back down when I have been accustomed to upheaval. Trying to lower myself back down into my natural life level rather than crazy, busy, hectic, stressful life level always causes me a little bit of grief. It isn't until you stop that you realise how much pressure you have been under. I would do it all again though without question so that is all that matters.

But anyway, enough with these cryptic ramblings. I can tell things have started to become more usual. I managed to paint last night and instead of getting on with some work I really need to do today I am art-ing. That is better. My normal priorities resumed - stuff work deadlines - I'll sort them out tomorrow, today I am doing some things for me.

It wasn't until I sat down to paint last night that I realised I have really missed colour over the last few weeks. Bright colours, cheerful colours, 'me' colours. The painting yesterday was a therapy painting, very bright, very optimistic and just what I needed. I am tempted to paint another one this evening but I am a bit emotionally drained so I don't want to overdo it. Fingers crossed I can do another one tomorrow evening. Tonight, if I need colour, I'll just have to look at my paint tubes (or all the paintings on the wall).

Hopefully blogging will get back to being regular now, painting will happen too, but in the meantime anything else that happens you can blame on George.