starts with a single step, and all that. You can tell I was a bit grumpy and musing about privilege when I started this, but then I drew a thousand million dots in the background and felt better.

They’re remarkable, dots.  Relaxing. Draw enough of them and you stop seeing an unhappy race between unequals.  You  stop noting the objective distance, stop comparing the little and the big creatures. It’s all a journey, after all. You breathe. The anxious expression of the small one turns determined. The complacency of the big turns supportive. Your brain turns into a motivational poster.

You spend five hours making dots.

So if you ask my dad if he can think of anything to colour in,  he will respond with “Screws! And wrenches!”

My mother, on the other hand, knows what colouring in is AND has impressive stores of corks.

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…And on that note, Happy First Advent! ^___^