I sat quietly at a table at the Art and Spirituality Center
at Mercy Hospital with a paint brush in my hand on Wednesday. Before me, a tray
I am upcycling/repurposing from utilitarian tool of women FOR YEARS into a work
of art about women artists, writers and poets whose voices were squelched.
I haven’t allowed myself the luxury of attending Open Studio
much this season, but I felt compelled to go because I wanted to be busy and I
wanted to be around people rather than alone.
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