Drawing me? I was wondering here about it. Now I draw all the time, I mean when I have time, I draw. Instead of sewing bags, I draw now. Of course I do a lot of other things, like scratching my head and thinking. I think a lot. Or praying for a day without pain. Seriously. Or eating pizza, sharing with Dafi, one bite for me, one bite for her, she loves that. I try that with water melon too, but she just makes faces at me. I cook and bake, and I do all the household chores, yes I do, and I do them smiling, because when I am finished I can DRAW! Really what did happen? I have NO idea - I think I am reliving childhood, another childhood, a happier childhood, one with colored pencils, and paper, and markers and crayons. And because it is sixty years later, there are also acrylics - I love them, because I can cover any "mistakes" with them. I love my drawings. I do not pretend to be an artist. No, not at all. I just draw and paint happily, and you should see me, being so calm and satisfied! I am encouraging myself and giving myself praise, like a parent to a child. I don't care anymore, that I don't know how to draw realistically. And I don't draw for anyone to like it, but for myself, although my husband says he likes them, my drawings. That is cool, because I feel good when he likes what I do. And Dafi likes me drawing, she always sits beside me, almost on my feet. Well she does that with anything I do sitting, so maybe she doesn't count as an opinion in the matter of drawing.
Off to have a cup of coffee! :-)