In the end, what affects your life most deeply are things too simple to talk about.
This is a continuation of a story I began a few posts back, how I've noticed my artwork really does tell my story.
Eventually, the surgeries subsided and I slowly began to control this disease. A lot of the time, I felt okay. I was told many times by my parents, especially, how they respected me for my strength during these two major episodes, serious illness and a divorce. I went back to work. I travelled. I exercised. I painted.
I was drawn to recreating images from Old Masters drawings in monochromatic colors. The images I was most attracted to, and worked on, were of strong appearing women. Here is one I finished, a self portrait of sorts.