I am so veryveryvery behind with journal posts. There's so much I want to write about - positively bore you to death with. And use the worst grammar ever and cliches and then babble more and more and on.

Linda Leaming is high on my list for a post. She's an amazing friend and author and totally kool person. She splits her time between here and Bhutan, and is my dear, dear most talented author-friend.

But below is what I have for now. I'm also midst typing a post about Viktor Frankl. That will arrive here tomorrow. In the meantime, below is my commission piece from Javier Mayoral, who resides in Miami and I think is a fabulous artiste.

The first person I showed this to said, "So? We're all dying."

I immediately thought of a bad word and it started with *mother*.

He didn't get it. But his critique rattled me a bit, I must confess.

So, bravely, most courageously, I tucked the painting in my satchel and revealed it to my therapist at Vanderbilt. He.Loved.It. He got it immediately - especially since I'm smiling in the painting.

Nothing about this commission is about self-pity. The night I thought these thoughts, I'd been exposed to too many people with ridiculous petty complaints about life.

Ya know? Sick people get to have fun, too.

BTW, don't ya think Javier could've airbrushed out my double-chin? Geesh!

I continue to be the healthiest sick person around. I feel GREAT!






I trust Javier so much, I gave him total creative license. He was the one to add the eye to my coffee cup. I still need to email him and ask the significance. All-seeing eye of God, perhaps? As I stated earlier, I'm behind.

As always, thanks for listening.