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What comes from listening to a CBC discussion about happiness while painting

Sometimes I feel like finding happiness is hard. As hard as smashing into the granite rocks. I feel like I need to summon a force inside somewhere to find the happiness and that force is equal to the force it took to pile this driftwood up on this beach.

My heart is soft, like fragile spring growth, and it doesn’t take much to crush it.

Sometimes happy thoughts are ephemeral and fleeting. Like each rose blossom. They only last the day and are gone.

Someone I love and admire occasionally reads a post like this and gives me a talking to.

“You have such a negative view of yourself. The things you say about your life will become a self-fulfilling prophesy.” He’ll say.


“And what about the good things in your life? Why don’t you focus on them?

More silence. And then: “Maybe you’re right.”

Podcast on CBC Tapestry. (Warning, do not paint paintings while listening to it.)

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