It's true. And it's sad. I never did spend enough time here, or come here regularly enough, to keep my plants alive. And now pink and pink and the chinadoll have passed on to what we can only hope is a better place. So it goes.
But let's look at the bright side, shall we? I still have my studio. I'm sitting in it. Right now. And it's mine, I'm not even sharing it. I can still come here whenever I please, to paint or draw or create some crazy collage or make crafty things, even if that 'whenever' seems to be incredible sporadic. I spent all of my savings to do it, which may or may not have been wise, but throughout my semi-employed sabbatical I maintained this space. It seemed necessary for my soul.
I'm happy that I still have it, and while the cost does hurt I don't actually have any regrets about it. Something in me needs this; it's validating to my endeavors even when I have a little trouble validating it, if that makes any sense at all. And throughout the month of November it will give me a quiet place to write for NaNoWriMo... but more on that later.
Now, I'm off to ride the F train.