Two nights ago the air inside felt stale and heavy while the full belly of the moon pulled the crazy out of everyone. My wife suggested we all go out onto the balcony to paint. I called the teenager from his room and away from his screen. I pried myself away from my emotional support television pacifier. And in a few minutes we were there, the three of us and the dog who lived, mixing colors, smudging, sketching, laughing and cultivating mess and non-judgmental hearts for our weary selves. Never underestimate the gift of having art supplies on hand. Frances Story thank you for drawing us into this work.