I have retired as a body painter

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It was not exactly with a bang, but the end of my carreer was delightful.

We had such a good course and all the participants and models were so wonderful that no one wanted to leave last night. So we went on through dinner and had a great time. It was fun. I have no regrets and am now an ex bodypainter.

I am not sure what that will change. Hopefully it will give me more focus and more time to devote to the children and my husband and Devotion. Less distraction. Although there was a big new distraction yesterday.

A man brough a 3D camera to photograph the bodypaintings. It does the moving 3D, not the kind that you need the glasses for. Quite an amazing contraption. I got involved in the lighting and position of the sitters and WOW! Such fun. He now thinks he should lend me a camera for a while. Yes please. I could get very distracted!

On another note, I have been wondering again about PTSD. I lay awake last night for a while in the heat with a window rattling. Too lazy to get up and do anything about it, hoping I would get used to the noise and not mind it any more. As I lay there I found myself wondering if there was about to be a big bang. Half expecting the world to end and wondering if I would find it painful. It is the most awful sensation, bracing oneself for the invisible end. waiting to hear the explosion. Wondering if it will be instant or slow. Am I the only one that does it? Somehow I feel not, but that most people don’t admit it. Or perhaps it is just me and everyone else has pure unadulterated faith in the world, the polititicans, the police…… I finally fell asleep and wished the night had been longer when I woke.

Do others people think about death as much? Does it matter? I mean whether they do or not? I think aobut it a lot. I watch movies like the Great Escape and wonder about how I would feel being in the Airforce, being shot down and then captured, I watch my children and hope I never have to face the loss of one or both. I watch my husband and hope he survivies me. It turns on my head so much. How would it be. How will I die. What will my end be like….. It is not really morbid, although it may seem so in the reading. It is more a fascination, which of course could be a morbid one, but we all have to go. Old films: they are all dead now, yet one can still watch the actors so vibrant and beautiful. It is bizarre to think about it. And as I watch myself get older, more lined, softer and greyer, I know I am getting closer, like a piece of metal to a magnet, to the end. And then ……….