I seem to begin all my posts with, "Sorry, it's been a really long time since my last post..."

Well, I'm not going to do that this time. I'm not. Truth is, I have so much to share, in words and illustrations.  I have a back log of hundreds of drawing ideas, but we all know how it is. Finding the time is difficult and finding the excuse is easier ;).

I've been doing pretty well.  Really.  Been very busy while fighting some kind of being sick for the past four months. It's odd, besides my initial birth where i had all sorts of health complications, growing up I barely got sick.  My mother used to always say, "You never get sick".  I think she took personal credit and pride in that.  But, I guess we aren't twelve anymore.  

I get tired more often than I'd like, part age, part my hibm, but do my best to hold on to being able to do everything and anything. I just can't give that part up yet. I feel like hibm tries to wrestle me down...aha!

There's an illustration idea: a wrestler named "HIBM". What a schmuck. I envision what we must look like in the ring. I'm sure my costume is way cooler than his.

The other day I fell. I fell right in front of my bathroom door, right next to my bedroom door.  I fell backwards, flat on my back with my walker perfectly straddled over me. Don't feel bad. By now I'm an expert faller. I haven't fell in a very long time and it was a silly little step that threw me off balance. I was particularly mad and obsessing over that little misstep, because I had too much on my agenda that day and falling is a nuisance.  A waste of minutes.

Feeling too weak to roll over and attempt the whole drama of sitting up, I just laid there.

"shit"

"really?", I mumbled.

I stared at the ceiling.  "Huh, a new perspective", I thought.  It only takes a fall to see something new.

I texted a friend from down the street. Her name is Sonya. I hired her when I moved back to pop by a couple times a week for an hour to help out and in general someone who I could call in case of emergencies.  I try not to rely on her for too many things so I can maintain my independence, but she helps me with little things; when I need a ride or get myself in a pickle like today.  It's been invaluable having her available and willing to come when I need something.  

"I'll be there in 20 minutes.", Sonya texts.

I soaked up the scenery of my door and ceiling.  "Oh, so close", I kept thinking. I was nearly out the door.  It wasn't a terrible fall. Ironically, my walking is far from being graceful, yet my falls make me look like I'm a feather dropping.  

Seemed like a perfect situation to make my doorway into a drawing. After all I had spent a good amount of time lying there.

In my drawings my lines are ragged, a bit jaggedy.  I remember my very first illustration a year ago and I was annoyed that my lines weren't perfect, yet shaky. But then I realized I've never been able to sketch perfect lines even before HIBM began.  Not even in ID school.  My hand shakes a bit when I draw. I decided just to go with it and let that become my style.  I'm not perfect, so why should my lines be?

I imagined my door, walls and cupboards as buildings, and there I was walking in the sky.  I was looking up at myself or was it, I was looking down at myself?  Imagination is very important.  I think we focus on grades, intellect, education, and in school we sort of teach ourselves out of imagination, but imagination is a very important tool to have in life.  Don't let go of it.  I don't need to go on about that.  I'll leave that to Sir Ken Robinson. I recommend his book Out of Our Minds.

When I don't have control, when there is nothing in the world that can change my circumstance, I imagine myself out of it. After all, as much as I'd like to, I can't escape my problems. I literally cannot run away.  Sure, I could avoid them, like most of us try to because we don't want to deal with anything bad, or I could take up a vice and get lost in overeating, working excessively, drinking, constant partying, drugs. This is in no way judgement to those that do. Every one of us have our escape routes handy in case we need to jump ship.

I guess for me mine is creativity and "doing".  Creativity keeps me grounded, sane, more alive and will things possible.  It's all I have in these moments. I want what I can't have so badly that I say, "Screw you" and imagine it up myself.

If I saw it exactly as it really was, such as this situation on the ground, it would only make me cry and frustrated.