Ménage à Trois and Loving It

People say it's wrong.  I know that.  Still, I can't stop.  How can I choose just one?  To live without either would kill me.  They both fulfill me in different ways...and in like ways, too.  Each can consume me.  I get lost in them for hours at a time. When I am with either, I am totally immersed in their sensuous, sinuous offerings.  Yes, I am in love with two.  And I am damn proud of it.

Oh, wait!  Did you think I was talking about men?  Or perhaps one of each sex?  No, no, nothing that ho-hum; nothing that cliche. I am talking about writing and painting.  Those, you see, are the two that I love.  Of course, I love my husband even more in a completely different way, but I did not want to say I love three.  You might think I am too promiscuous then!

Both writing and painting offer me the platform to create.  Ah, creation.  The start of everything the universe has ever known.  Is creation, that energy that turns thoughts into realities, what God is?  Perhaps.  Creative energy.  That certainly does not put limits on God.  In fact, to me it makes God as huge as a god should be.  The vastness of creation is unparalleled.  To give something like that human qualities (jealous, forgiving, loving, angry) seems much more limiting in my book.  Of course, my book may be much different than yours.

Writing gives me the ability to create characters and scenes; thoughts and deeds.  Painting gives me the ability to express emotions and visual beauty or horror.  They say a picture is worth a thousand words.  Yet, they also say that verbal abuse is much more damaging than physical abuse. 

Words and visuals.  Paintings and books.  They both can cause a woman to sigh in ecstasy, a man to fall to his knees in horror.  Words can make a grown man cry, paintings can slice a hole in ones soul.  Both can heal.  Pretty heady stuff, books and paintings.

So, I will continue my love affairs with both.  Today I am committed to writing twenty pages in my third novel.  Yesterday I got a review from a total stranger, a man, for Gastien Part 2: From Dream to Destiny.  There is nothing quite like the feeling I get when I see that someone I will never know has been drawn to read my work.  He gave it 5 stars.  I am honored.  He said he laughed and he cried.  I made a man cry with a love story.  Words.  They have brute strength.

After I write my twenty pages, I will pick up my favorite paintbrush and continue to caress either my impressionistic painting of a street in Montmartre, or I will continue to soul kiss some cubism I am working on.  Depends on my mood.  Paintings.  Visual statements from my soul to your eyes. Will you love them?  I don't know. What I do know is that the paintings will know that I loved them to the best of my ability.

Me and my loves.  My loves and me.  How fortunate I am to have them both in my life.  They sometimes fight for attention, but they both know I love them equally. We exist blissfully in our ménage à trois. Care to join us?