Facing the blank landscape.

For the first time, there's blank. When one was a child, play, eat, sleep, do being good for Mum & Dad / Nana ect or not. When one is a newly flown adult, do work, for eat, sleep, play oh yes and more play. When one is a parent, do work, do looking after children and hubby and eat, sleep and ...... too tired to play. When one's children leave, there's empty. Do the poor me for a few seconds all alone and reflect. What now?

Life is , create for joy ... right? wrong? What next? Actually getting to know oneself is daunting, for me ... looking in the mirror and saying - "who's that" and there it all is staring back, the weight gain, the stretch marks, the scars and grey hair. Wow, where'd I go?

For the first time, a blank canvas faces me. I sit looking at the countless scapped drawings at my feet and ponder the bin of writing thrown away. My creative flow has halted there it is, all in the bin or at my feet. What shall I do? Where shall I go? Who has the answers?

I am not longer a child, and while still a mother I no longer required, I am no longer a wife. There is just me. Ohh! I still see the beauty of the droplet of rain and the prisms it carries from the sunlight dancing, I still see the butterfly open it's wings, I see all the children and hear them laughing though now it seems as if its all at a distance and I am the one looking in when just a few seconds ago it was me in the centre. Where do I go now? What will I do? Where do I fit in? What happens on my canvas?