I spent a significant part of the summer trying not to be swallowed up by a black cloud of depression.
It wasn't terribly obvious. I was still doing all the things a mom does: grilling, shopping, laundry, planning activities, taking the kids to the movies, baking pies, teaching my oldest to drive, swimming, walking, ice skating, making birthday cakes--plus painting, and writing. All while trying not to drown in a pool of my own tears.
This piece was going to be monochromatic, but then I couldn't keep the colors out of it. Which is why I called the result High-Functioning.
My youngest had asked for a tree on her wall, and I couldn't think of a cheerier project to keep me moving in spite of my what-is-even-the-point-of-anything funk.
Painting together made for some great mother-daughter bonding. Especially when she insisted on a squirrel, and we had to figure out together how to achieve it.
The clouds have thinned considerably since then, and our tree is a pleasant reminder that happy things can still grow in dark times.