An Extra Day Didn’t Help

This year’s Leap Day didn’t help me accomplish my artwork for the month!

To be fair (to myself), I have the drawing completely outlined to scale. That part was completed a couple of weeks ago. Then it was February vacation week, and I said, “I’ll finish it when Adalynn goes back to school. That should give me enough time.”

As is often the case, life had other plans: sciatica. If you know, you know. If you don’t, just know that the nerve pain was so severe I found myself lying on the floor, shivering, wondering if I should call 911. It was as excruciating as my drug-free childbirths. It made sitting impossible, standing next to impossible, and walking very difficult.

It is going to take some time to calm this nerve down. I can only sit in short bursts before I have to get up and move, and hinging forward is still extremely painful. The perfectionist in me is saying, “Well, you can still get this done today, you just have to power through it.” I don’t want to rush it, though. I really like the poem I wrote to inspire this drawing, and it deserves the level of attention I would give to it without sciatica.

So today, on the last day of February, and the extra day we get every four years, I present a work-in-progress, which I will continue as I can. The poem follows underneath.

February’s work-in-progress (colored pencil on watercolor paper)

Apron of fat, becoming
     two chubby arms reaching
     for me.
Purple-silver streaks
     whispered in moonlight
     now feather-fine hair caressing my cheek.
A crumpled stomach, cruelly lopsided -
     a gift.

Now I am Mom,
     never an art school cynic
     cigarette-wielding bad ass
     rock & roll girlfriend
     high-heel fiend
     jealous ruminator
     obsessive creator.
Just Mom.
Like my Mom.
Our hopes and dreams reborn
     with a bloody push
     screaming into morning.
Our bodies transformed -
Every mark a new promise
     to shine you bright before us,
To watch you walk away from us
     and Become.