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Many times over these past 361 I have dipped into the well of emblazoned happiness. It was usually a brush that found its bristles coated in pigments of crimson and cerulean.

Yes, painting has always brought joy to my life, and this year more than any other it has also been a great healer to wounds of the heart. Loss. Pain. Anxiety. Anger. These emotions have each been tempered by the stroke of a brush and the smearing of chalk. My fingernails are rarely spotless and no doubt these lungs have suffered much from inhaling chalk dust. And now, today, as I reflect back upon these visual landmarks of a year swiftly passed I honor every mar, every mistake, every misplaced stroke. Each painting, coaxed with story, brought to life through tears and candle flame.

Today I share today a small collection of paintings that provided great comfort to me over these past 361 days. May they continued to inspire and nourish you in your moment of joy and sorrow.

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