Tonight, I went to another art exhibit.
And alone, too.
Yes, I ended up meeting friends there, however, I was going in the first place, whether they accepted the belated invitation or not…
And it was wonderful.
I loved the art, I had fun with the friends, I felt myself, and I felt totally loved, and for being just that (myself, I mean).
And I didn’t even think about this as being an improvement on who I am being in life until after the fact, upon further, late-night reflection…
It was wonderful.
It has only taken me years, but I am finally beginning to embrace and to take advantage of the wonderful arts scene found in Houston.
I am finally going to museums somewhat regularly, and am even going on my own, at times, now.
And I love it.
And I love myself for it, too.
I love being myself, the self I have always had inside, the one who wants to be a museum/goer, who can be found on her own at a museum, contemplating this or that piece with curiosity.
It’s really cool, y’all… really cool.