This is my story of healing through art, a story of recovery, being lived a day at a time. I am Mom & textbook co-dependent to my daughter and recovering addict. I can't imagine the battle she goes through on a daily basis to stay clean, but she is doing the work and succeeding. I'm incredibly proud of her. I am grateful for every moment I have with her. To hear her voice answer the phone in the morning is a joy that's hard to describe ..
While she was away in rehab, my wise therapist suggested that I paint, and I listened to her.
I laid a large piece of cut canvas on the floor of my dusty old barn. I plunged my hands into buckets of house paint and began throwing wildly at the canvas. I threw paint with my whole being-- with all my guilt and incomprehension and gut-wrenching sadness, with my all-consuming love for & faith in my daughter. I threw paint until my shoulders ached. I cried and laughed and screamed and sang. I threw paint with blazing anger at my naivete and uncanny ability to pretend that everything was ok. But mostly, I threw paint at the overwhelming fear of losing my daughter.
What was born from this craze of paintthrowing was not only art and beauty, but understanding, surrender and gratitude. And I found that I could breathe again.
When my daughter saw my paintings, she suggested that we make cards with them. Cards that might ease the pain of others in our boat -- so many others -- struggling with addiction, alcoholism, eating disorders; ease the pain of anyone suffering.
She chose the inside messages from the letters that I had written to her when she was in rehab. Then she designed the logo on the back of the card. And here we are. We'd like to call them recovery/encouragement cards but they are whatever you need them to be.
From the pain and uncertainty and horror of addiction emerged something good & beautiful. A miracle in itself, this project has been healing for both my daughter & me. And I have no doubt that intervention of the Highest kind made it possible.
I hope my paintings speak to you; we hope our cards do as well.
*My daughter got clean in the Spring of 2016.
It's a good day, a very good day. Kit