I am not yet legally blind. I struggle to see. I spend my days filled with gratitude and dismay. It’s like two sides of a coin I never wanted. Did I mention that I am an artist? I paint furniture. Or I did. Now even solid pieces are filled with runs and drips. It’s a contrast thing. I can’t see the paint that’s causing trouble. It all looks the same to me. And forget about details. The days of painting the alphabet on children’s furniture or painting small polka dots and squares and flowers are all gone. It’s just a mess when I try. There is before and there is after. I am living in the after. It’s a perfect opportunity for laughter. I thought I saw a skank on my kitchen counter the other day. My heart stopped for a moment. Now, I’ve never seen one of those in my house but sometimes my vision “sees” things. On closer inspection, it was the coffee pot cord peeking out from under the panini machine. Up close, it’s not even remotely the same. ...
Living A Colorful Life