It’s been some time since I’ve discussed my complete lack of coordination. Many people who know me believe that I am sick quite often, which actually isn’t true, I’m just injured a lot. I think it has a lot to do with my very active mind (previously known as Monkey Brain). I am always concocting something, could be a new recipe, or I may have seen a piece of junk I am re imagining in my head, or maybe it could be a piece of art I’m working on. All of this thought apparently occupies so much of my brain that I fail to see curbs, steps, and open doors, this of course leads to bumping into things, bruises, and in my case the six knee operations I have previously referred to. There is also the accidentally slit wrist (the gory details of that little episode are in a past entry), two sprained ankles, two broken fingers, an almost severed Achilles’ tendon, and an almost broken nose. There is so much more, but I’m sure everyone gets the general idea. It’s amazing that I don’t spend my life in a cast, or worse yet live like John Travolta in The Boy In The Plastic Bubble. I know it sounds pathetic, but I guess for me it’s just part of who I am. I have a tremendous amount of creative talent, so I guess the lack of coordination is the price I pay. I bring all of this humiliating information to the attention of everyone that reads my blog because I injured myself again today, and as a result I am posting a piece of art that I painted last year. I am also, in anticipation of tomorrow, giving a sneak peek of elements of tomorrow’s project, which hopefully I will be able to create, (that is if there isn’t some other spectacular event in the uncoordinated Olympics). I am hoping to be up to working on yet another cabinet door. So what was today’s calamity? How did I manage to hurt myself once again? I hugged my husband. Seriously. Dan is about six-foot one, I am currently five-foot four. I say currently because much to my surprise I have lost an inch. No, not osteoporosis, my bones are good, it’s all those knee surgeries. Anyway, this morning I hugged Dan, and somehow upon disentangling myself from him I pulled something in my back. I have been dealing with scar tissue from a head on collision for a few years, and now who knows what I did. Who ever knows what I do? Maybe it’s Murphy’s Law, I am 100% Irish, could it be that Murphy is a not so distant relative? Maybe it has to do with my continual lack of sleep. Monkey brains don’t turn off easily, so sleeping is and always has been an issue. I’d like to believe that all that sleep deprivation fuels creativity, even if it does cause me to do idiot stuff like walking into walls, or God forbid hugging my husband. Hopefully tomorrow I will be a fully functioning klutz once again, and I will have new work to post.