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Art therapy - share your work here

I was born with the artistic gift, so I went to Art College and became a professional artist. I am retired now, as I am in my mid-60s and am no longer able to do much with these arthritic, neuropathic hands. However, I do still do some crocheting and I have written a book of poetry, 2 actually, but only one got printed. It did not sell well, and to my knowledge, is no longer available for sale anywhere. It was a collection of poetry inspired by the guests who used to stay at a motel I owned "in another life." That was before my adult trauma. That was when I HAD A LIFE.

Way back, when I was working professionally, I did a series of over 300 paintings about all the lake legends around the world. One of them was published as a postcard and sold at one of the lakes. I'm sorry to say, I don't believe I have an image of it, as I was homeless for 3 years and lost EVERYTHING I owned, including what paintings I had that had not sold up to that point. I also lost the motel, which was where I lived, so that is how I became homeless. It was after the WTC Bombing, and no one was travelling by plane then. Since all our motel guests had come from the airport, we ended up going out of business. It was an awful time in my life, and my life was even threatened during that time too....

Anyway, way back, I loved writing poetry. I used to share it online, in half-baked form sometimes even, and then I would polish up the best ones and post them on a web page I had going for awhile. Folks would come by, look at some of my paintings and read the poems that went with them and sign my guestbook with all kinds of cudos. I loved that, and I did it all for free, just to share with the world. I guess it was a way to promote my art too....

These days, due to health restrictions, I rarely do any art. The last thing I did was crochet a lap blanket for a friend of mine who was in the hospital. She was so cold, I wanted to help her warm up!

Before that, I did some very rudimentary images of my traumas as homework for my therapist. She did not seem overly impressed with them or interested in them, so I stopped doing them. They did not do a lot for me either.

I think sometimes I am in the mood to do some art, but my physical limitations prevent me. So, mostly, this post is about what I have done in the past, and my support for this thread, because I think it is a great idea, for those who are able to express themselves in artistic ways.

If I feel up to it in the future, I might share some kind of written creation here ....
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This is one I took of the original World Trade Center, in 1990. You can only really see one of the 2 towers. My hubby and I used to go up to the top of them to the look-out and you could see for miles and miles. We so enjoyed that on Sunday afternoons. It was better than going for a Sunday drive to the beach, though we loved to do that too. This image is taken on the shores of the Hudson River, from the New Jersey side. I shot it in 1990 with a keychain camera! Like the camera was about one quarter the size of the palm of my hand.
@Bearlinda I do sometimes feel it, but I get so frustrated with my hands, since they cannot do the things that I once was able to do. My hand eye coordination has deteriorated with age also, which makes the situation that much worse. I have Lyme Disease, and so my hands are very numb, I only have maybe half the feeling I used to, before the neuroapathy set in. Then, adding insult to injury, is the arthritis. I feel depressed about it sometimes, it is a great loss, yes.
I used to paint a picture in my mind every night before I went to sleep. I would be riding on the back of my knight in shining armor's horse, but he was never wearing armor. He was dressed more like a comfortable man, someone easy to hug onto for dear life.

I would be dressed in a beautiful gown, I guess, though I never would have called it that. It was more like a long kind of hippie dress, though not tie died. Maybe it was made of velvet and had lace on it. It was comfortable too. Comfort, obviously, was of the essence.

My knight and I would always ride into a castle. We would cross the moat over a wooden bridge, and I could even hear the horse's hooves on it. Clop, clop, clop....

Inside there would be someone to take our cloaks and we would dine with all the folks who lived in the castle with us, the nobles and their ladies, you know?

I would dream up all this in my mind every night before I went to sleep. It would calm my spirit and make me happy and content, and then I would fall asleep, feeling protected in the arms of my knight.

I did this every night for years....
The Voices In My Head

I want to hear from God
but enemies often speak instead
they pound against my inner being
all around inside my head!

They are obnoxious
they clamor to be heard
they try to sound like God
though they really smell like a turd

God speaks with Love
a gentle quiet calm voice
He is a Gentleman
always giving me a choice!

He does not give orders
he leaves the decisions up to you
He understands you completely
as well as all the things you do.