Work on the the proposal for my fiction manuscript came to a full stop as I faced the barrier of painting an indigo iris, a key motif in the story, symbolizing the main character’s journey toward healing. For some reason, I could not continue the journey until the flower transposed from my imagination into something tangible.

But, the “instrument” was terribly “out of tune” after several months of not painting. My soul had fallen silent for a time, shocked into subterranean layers beyond expression by the sudden deaths of three treasured friends, followed soon after by the unrelated death of another friend.

So, my brush moved across paper like an old, creaky truck left in the fields for too long. But, creativity, like healing, is something we have to fight for, a journey of perseverance when rusty gears make us just want to stop. And through painting, I press into the only One who possesses the power to heal.