I’ve entered the glorious land of menopause, where I wake up sweating, forget what I was doing mid-painting, and cry because someone smiled at me nicely in the grocery store.
The muse is confused, I’m confused, and my skin is apparently dry and oily now?
BUT — creativity is still alive in this chaos. Some days it looks like expressive art, other days it’s a highly emotional doodle of a cat yelling into the void. Either way: it counts.
To anyone else juggling life and hormonal turbulence: you’re not alone. Pass the fan and let’s make some weird art about it.
