It seems that whenever I set out to illustrate how my pain feels, I draw sharp angular lines.
Although I keep a ton of art supplies close by—literally in piles next to me on my sofa—, I tend to reach for my pencil and ruler and start mapping out lines.
Sometimes I’m lucky enough to spend time in the middle of nature doing one of my favourite things.
I love drawing lines. I’ve shared many posts where I talk about the meditative quality of opening a clean page in my sketchbook and simply drawing lines. I can get lost for hours as I fill a page with line drawings and doodles.
During the past few months, I’ve been trying to do more, in spite of the pain I live with daily.
Today, however, the pain forced me to do less. I can’t sit without feeling piercing pain through the right side of my pelvis from where a huge cyst was surgically removed almost four years ago, after I’d lived under the shroud of a misdiagnosis for two years. I also can’t stand without that same piercing pain shooting up and down my right leg and through my right hip.
My Small Surrenders 