I have discovered that odd numbered ages are often transitional phases for me.  For instance, I discovered who I really am at age seven.  Thirteen was, well... weren't we all in a transitional phase at thirteen?  Seventeen was my first difficult transitional time.  My parents were getting divorced and I was on my own before I was ready to be.  Then came thirty-one...

This year of my life has been one of accomplishment, growth and wake up calls.  All of these are wonderful things that will make me stronger and more courageous.  The only problem is that when I experience something that will make me stronger, it sure makes me feel weaker in the moment.  I bet this is natural, but it still causes grief and anxiety.

I spent most of my day looking for emotional outlets.  I went to the art museum, I did some journaling, I spent time in the library, I visited my home town and wandered the streets in my current town.  I guess I was looking for some kind of solid ground.  Something I knew was going to stick around for the long haul.  Something to stabilize my mind.

I believe that part of being an artist is being more sensitive to emotions and surroundings than others.  This can make us beautiful caring people, but it can also make us confused and misunderstood. 

I know that there are people going through things in their lives that are unimaginable and that I am absolutely blessed with the life I have.  I am going to keep moving forward and wait to see what I am supposed to be learning here.