“Creativity is a drug I cannot live without.”
— CECIL B. DEMILLE
There is a difference between being creative and creating. I am not creative. Instead, I gratefully ride on the coattails of those who are and find my solace in the process of creating what they envisioned. Grief and life amid a pandemic is fraught. The ever-lasting grief of child loss leaves few openings to absorb and process other grief that needs attention – whether the loss of other loved ones or the loss of daily life as we know it. Retrospection can take you back to the edge of the black hole and looking to the future no longer helps to back away from that edge. So I pick up a hook and a rainbow of colors and meditatively process, one square at a time. The squares become a blanket and my mind becomes a bit more settled into the moment.