The solace of a cup

Today’s tired has me feeling fractious like a cornered beast with a big fuck off stick.

I didn’t act like one though. I cuddled the two sons who were home and tried not to think about anything.

It gave me a headache, but I did it.

This picture was inspired by the memory of one I drew in the summer of 1999. When I was seventeen and grieving the sudden death of a dear friend. It was when I first started thinking about how solace sits well in a cup. Warmth in a hand, near a chest, down the throat, below the nose, against the lip. Bracing the senses with tannins and caffeine.

I am craving the solace of a coffee or a tea, but I am resisting as tonight I must sleep.

I pour myself some hot water instead. Solace diluted for the promise of sleep.

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