This photo is the final version of a previously better draft, which is only history now. Luckily, I took a photo of it before I impulsively painted over her… I feel sick to my stomach, like I do when I lash out with words, or look at an old photo of my children and wish cleaning the house hadn’t been so important in those days. Will I ever learn?
Now, look at her again, before I show you the better version, now a layer of her, her former self. It is a painting, like life, changed forever by the stroke of my brush; a reminder of how one decision can change everything. One “Yes” or one “No” or one Slip of the tongue” or a lie or not following your gut.
Now look at the new girl, the new baby. It’s almost like when as a child, I thought about, “I wonder what I’d look like if Mom had married someone else — or if Dad had married someone else”. An odd thing to wonder; but I wondered about much weirder things, believe me. Maybe she is the identical twin I had in moms birth canal but who never lived to see the day, neck snapped in delivery. I like her better now, having thought that… The second version of a fabulous woman (hahaha). Her lost soulmate.
The change has merit, with that last thought in mind. Next time, maybe ill remind myself to, “Step AWAY from the canvas, Jane. step away from the canvas.” Anyway, she’s still there; she’s just underneath. I DO Iove the new girl, anyway, and the new baby.
Another day of painting; another lesson. Which do you prefer, version 1 or Version 2 of “Well Enough Alone”. Lesson: not moving on something is always my best tack, as impulse differs from my gut. I probably won’t stop me, though.