Shit. I was a day off. She can forgive me, for I was engrossed in a project, surely. 26 hours of concepting, drafting, painting, and perfecting a project. Maybe one day I can share it. It's a personal piece. Now. To make up for lost time. The day prior was a day for mothers. I would like to dedicate it to not one of blood, but one of faith. The Mother of Mourning, my Dolorosa, blessed be. Patron saint and goddess of the wanderers of the night, who blesses us and keep us held together. Patron saint of revelry and living, of art and beauty, of a life lived to its fullest and a death, mourner of those who pass too soon or too severe. She weeps tears of sadness for what was taken, tears of joy for what was given, tears of grief for what could've been, and tears of remembrance for what once was. I too, cared for the young. I too, raised what some would call sons and daughters. I mourn for them as well, as I had to part with them far too soon. I was not there for them. Saddens me. Brings me great shame. I turned to the Dolorosa when I was forced to abandon my old life, and embrace a new. She has been my guiding light and I am forever grateful.
