Hola Darling Ones,

Tomorrow, March 6th, marks the third anniversary of my stroke. Time flies when you’re learning how to be disabled, struggling with money, and grieving.

Three years since I called 911 and none of those men believed me when I said I had a stroke. Three years since I heard the cop making fun of me, “She thinks she had a stroke. She googled.” All cops really are bastards. I will never not be a hot ball of fury about how those first responders treated me.

Three years since I walked or drove or generally felt normal inside my own body.

It’s kinda nice the world outside of me has been pretty tame allowing me a singular focus on getting stronger. No wars. No ongoing military occupation of my state where thugs abduct or murder neighbors. No fascist overthrow of the US by the dumbest and cruelest humans led by an evil delusional gameshow host.

On this strokeaversary I’m so proud of how far I’ve come. Reading those early days after the stroke is rough. I was so beaten down and scared.

But even a damaged brain can’t keep a good spinster down.

Aside from my finances (my dole hearing is April 10) and the fascism, I’m doing pretty well. I think perhaps, maybe, I have finally accepted that this is the way things are gonna be and status quo is not a bad thing. Or maybe this is like grief and I will always be accepting it in some way.

Now that I’ve stopped beating myself up for failing at recovery, I’ve got a lot time on my hands, and so I’m starting an art/creative practice like its my job.

While I still crochet and write, it’s not the same as before. When I’m engaged in those activities there’s a whispering voice saying “this weird. why is this weird? what is wrong with you?”

To get that voice to shut up already I’ve taken up water colors. I want to try some drawing and collaging too. I’ve always been drawn to visual art and envious of those who create it, but haven’t taken an art class since seventh grade. Instead, I drifted toward photography and graphic art in school. That all came together when I discovered blogging and so I let crochet be my unplugged creative way to calm the brain weasels.

Now I need more. My brain weasels are bigger, damaged, and rowdy. I wanted something relatively cheap I could do with my hands. Something I haven’t done before.

My magical thinking has decided this new practice will be good for my Floppy Scoop and work some kind of wizardry my brain. It won’t fix the wooshiness that is my constant state of being, but maybe it will make it a little less gusty?

I’m only five days into the practice. It took me awhile to find cheap/free supplies and get over the fear that I’d art wrong and the world would end because of it. Right now I’m following a 30/60-day sketchbook challenge from Andrea Nelson on Instagram.

This old spinster is learning some new tricks. It’s fun to start a new practice and challenge myself to try something new that I’m not good at. Be gentle when I start subjecting you to all my creations. I’m just a baby at this.

Happy to be still kicking,
Jodi