The Artist's Eye

By ArtistAnnie

Witching Hour

I woke around four am in a state of anxiety. Too much happening. An appliance order that was expensive and not wise. A weekend trip coming up. Guests coming. The Festival of Music. Then Africa. It all felt too much. Shelly woke and I told him how I was feeling. He gathered me in his arms and soothed me with his tenderness. “It will all be okay.” And I drank in his protective comfort. And was able to sleep. This morning I called the appliance store and changed the order. I felt calm and relaxed all day.

My washer has died. I’m replacing it with a small stacked set, the only one available that fits the space in my laundry room. I was going to try to Jerry rig a bigger washer and the current dryer, a plan that would lead to trouble when the dryer conked out.

The photo is of light thrown by a large round pierced Chinese ball lit from beneath. It was a gift to my dad. He mounted the ball on a large piece of California jade and added the light.

The extra is Mehitabel in the hall. If you look closely you’ll see the time was 4:20 am.

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