Finding our voice with words or paint. It’s all the same.

This morning I skipped up to the breakfast table and said to Himself, 'I love writing sooo much!' Himself looked suspicious. He rarely hears me say such a thing. Usually it's, 'I hate writing!' Or, 'I'm never doing this again!' Or, 'This book is PATHETIC. Someone else can write it.' But this morning  was different. This morning …

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