“I moved nearer to a children’s hospital in another
city for expert treatment for my son.
One ray of hope for my mental health:
I still had my magic pencil to carry me
through those times of uncertainty.
In my life before MS, I was a prolific artist
working in many mediums.”


I feel like I am waking up from a long, long dream, like Rip Van Winkle. Or awakening at my easel in a dimly lit European alcove in the middle of a cold dark night. Or waking up near a flickering candle like artist Rembrandt van Rijn or Peter Paul Rubens of old might have done. It is like a spooky déjà.