The color red isn’t hot enough. Red doesn’t burn enough. Red doesn’t scream enough. Purple? No, it is just a darker color. Add green as the complimentary color? nope – looks like Christmas. Maybe cobalt blue. When I was making sculpture with my acetylene torch I adjusted the cone of the flame to control the heat. The tip of the gas flame. Is it cool there? Or is that the hottest point?
So do I lay here in bed like a chicken or am I lying down like a person? My mom always corrected my grammar. Does she know about my cancer? It’s 4 am. My throat is sore. If I get up I get nauseated. Do I use the neti pot first to get rid of the mucus so I don’t vomit the hell out of me or do to I take oxycodone on an empty stomach or take it with that rice pudding that comes from Mexico. Probably will still get sick. Next, diversion. Paint. I wet the paper, get out the pastels, india ink and oil pastels and I paint – forget about my throat for awhile
Thick pads of transparent blueish mucus settle at the base of my tongue. I am continually expelling it from my body.
It’s three o’clock in the morning.
Time for distraction.
Time to paint.
No flowers around this morning to act as a base for a painting.
I remember my mother’s Chinese snuff bottles.
Among her collection of small objects, I remember a transparent blue Chinese snuff bottle.
The painting process has started.
The painting tells me what to do.
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Halfway through radiation therapy my drawings changed., just like that! One day it’s pretty peonies. The next day it’s morning pain. So, you are supposed to feel the subject matter. I feel the subject matter. Draw from the heart, not the habit. I did that. too. Got 9 days to go. And about 50 drawings that could turn into paintings if I want to go that route.