When Anger Hands You a Paintbrush
I picked up a paintbrush in a rage and attacked a bare panel like it had offended me. It sold in 24 hours.
Four years ago, anger saved my life.
Not the flailing kind. Not the dramatic kind.
The kind that shows up when you’ve lost everything twice and you’re staring at a life that was supposed to be safe, steady, and soft… and instead feels like the ground gave way again.
I had just hauled myself out of Louisiana after Hurricane Laura took every …
