The Art & Poetry of Mary Coleman

So I like today’s drawing, and I wrote two poems yesterday, so I’ve been keeping up with my creative practice each day. It’s good not to do the same thing every single day because I don’t get burned out. So I sort of switch back and forth between writing and drawing.

My mother had started a retouching business back before computers replaced that art and my father was working for a cabinet company doing woodwork. Neither was particularly happy. My mother more so than my father. She was a survivor. She could find shards of happiness in little things even when the overall picture was bleak. My father was bitter, hated his job, and took out all his anger and hatred on my mother and I.