I've been remiss, here at Hotweir World Headquarters, to announce that we now are proud that we have a Family Crest, courtesy of my youngest child. She made it in art class, naturally, and it seems particularly appropriate, given that most such crests celebrate arms, strength, valor and the like, that she chose for our family's values "art, art, art."
There is a book and a palette of paints, plus writing and painting implements.
Then there are two additional pieces of original art, intimate themes that have captured her own imagination since she was very young: a lone island in the ocean, and a verdant landscape.
In both, the sun shines brightly. (To view detail of this crest, click on the small image above.)
Her sunny optimism, as a person, stands in sharp contrast to her aged father's deep sense of gloom about the actual state of our shared world and circumstance, not to mention a lifetime's worth of depressions that sweep over me like the waves in her picture that caress that tiny island.
Out of this oppressive darkness, however -- sometimes slowly and painfully, other times rushing like the wind -- come these words. Hundreds of thousands of words in thousands of journal entries, known as aka blog posts.
If any visitor wonders what this particular blog is "about," the only answer is that if I knew I would tell you, for sure. At best, all I know is that it is in the process of becoming...something.
A story. Maybe alive, maybe dead. Maybe a story without any ending. Possibly a story lacking a beginning.
But it did begin, over three years ago. It was born of the utter darkness and desperation of a depression that could not be endured "alone." Thus, I wrote.
Thus, I continue to write. Now, I have a cheerful Family Crest to remind me of the powerful reasons to perdure.
Love. Family. Art.
-30-
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