Hi. I'm a painter, a writer and a mother of three teenage sons, one with a severe disability. This is a journal: riotously disorganized, full of art, food, children and everyday domestic events. Unless you are a friend or family member you may not be interested, but you are welcome to look. Artists who are parents may find some common ground here, as well as parents of children with special needs. For art only, see my site: nancybeamiller.blogspot.com
Wednesday, March 30
LISTENING
Every now and then Henry stops what he is doing and stands there, listening to something unheard by those around him. My spiritual minded friends would say he is listening to the voices of the angels. My scientific minded friends would say he is just picking up some high frequency to which average ears aren't attuned. Maybe they are both right.
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