In the midst of keeping everything tidy
I've taken fifteen minutes a day to work toward spoiling myself rotten.
What is the point of making art if you never gift the hands that work
or the heart that lets it all come through?
I took the biggest, juiciest piece of chrysoprase my world has ever known
and surrounded it with pieces that are filled
front and back with great meaning for this time in life.
Self-care may be chaotic at best these days, but
it is happening
and this is all that matters
I hope you are tending to yourselves, dear friends
even if you do it sporadically