Day 30 - I Am Not a Lot of Women

My love of cars did not begin with the Hellcat.

It started long before horsepower meant anything to me, before I understood engines, transmissions, or why adults got so emotional about torque. I was just a little girl who loved cars. I wanted to know how they worked. I wanted to be independent. I wanted to learn how to take care of my own car, change my own wipers, and someday drive a manual transmission without launching myself into a mailbox.

I was the little girl who got excited about Knight Rider and could not wait to have my picture taken with KITT. I think I was four or five years old, standing next to that car like I had just met a celebrity. Honestly, I had.

I was also the little girl who wanted to restore my mom’s old ’64 Valiant. I would sit in that car, even with the rusted-out floorboards, and dream about what she could become. Most people probably saw an old car with a hole in the bottom. I saw possibility, personality, and a very questionable tetanus risk.

And apparently, I never really grew out of it.

I am still the woman whose head turns when an American muscle car goes by. I am still the woman who could barely contain herself when my future husband asked if I wanted to go for a ride in his Z28 Camaro. I did not just say yes. I spiritually teleported into that passenger seat.

So, by the time I saw that Challenger on Highway 76, I was not discovering something new about myself.

I was recognizing something that had been there all along.

I remember the exact moment I fell in love with my car.

I was driving on Highway 76 toward Greeley when I pulled up next to a beautiful car that made me lose all sense of safety, manners, and basic highway etiquette. I rolled down my window at 65 miles per hour and yelled across traffic, “WHAT KIND OF CAR IS THAT?”

Yes. Totally scary. Completely unsafe. Not recommended by any driving instructor, insurance company, or person with common sense.

But I couldn’t help myself.

It was a Challenger, and from that moment on, the Dodge Challenger became my favorite car.

Then, in 2016, the Hellcat came out, and I drooled all over again. I wanted one so badly, but there was one very important problem: it did not come in Plum Crazy Purple. The Demon did, but the Hellcat did not.

Now, yes, I know I could have bought one and had it painted purple, but for me, that just wasn’t the same. It needed to be born purple. Factory purple. Officially purple. Purple with papers.

I also couldn’t bring myself to be okay with the Demon because I was hung up on the name. Yes, I realize now that being fine with “Hellcat” but uncomfortable with “Demon” may not have been my clearest theological or logical moment. Apparently, “Hell-Cat” felt neutral to me at the time. Growth is a journey.

Besides, I knew I would never be able to afford one anyway. And even if some huge miracle happened and I could afford one, I told myself I would never spend money on something that wildly irresponsible.

I was going to be reasonable.

Responsible.

Practical.

Boring.

Fast forward to last year, when my husband came to me and said, “I’ve been thinking about getting you a Challenger.”

I was blown away.

After several conversations, a lot of research, and probably more browser tabs than any marriage should have to endure, we found the one. And I do mean THE ONE.

A Hellcat. Plum Crazy Purple. Narrow body. 2023. Last Call. Jailbreak. Sunroof. Manual transmission.

This baby did not just show up in my life. She landed in it like a purple thunderbolt from the irresponsible-but-glorious heavens.

The day she arrived, I barely slept. I had a doctor’s appointment with my surgeon that day, and I had been praying she would show up in time for me to drive her there. I had been tracking the transport like a woman awaiting the arrival of royalty, or concert tickets, or biopsy results.

And then, right on time, she showed up.

I jumped in, full of confidence and excitement.

And stalled her.

Then I stalled her again.

Nothing says “new sports car owner” quite like sitting in your dream car while it repeatedly reminds you that she has standards.

She was temperamental from the start, but it was instant love.

Over the next few days, I stalled her at least once a day. Very humbling. Very comedic. Very much part of the process of learning how to drive a car that clearly has opinions, boundaries, and a flair for public embarrassment.

Now it has been a few months, one ticket, and a whole lot of attention I was not expecting.

I have gotten thumbs up, revving engines, challenges to race, and one guy who said he might trade me his Demon for my car “if he gets drunk enough.” I have also received a few obscene gestures from very young “boys” who apparently had feelings they did not know how to process.

The most recent encounter happened at the car wash, where I have a monthly subscription so I can clean my car anytime I want—during business hours, because even obsession has limits.

I pulled up, and the guy working there immediately started drooling over my car. He loved the color. He said it was a nice car. Then he looked at it again and said, “That’s a lot of car.”

Then he added, “You know, you don’t see a lot of women with Hellcats and manuals.”

I paused for a second.

Then I said, “Well, I am not a lot of women.”

My husband was on the car speaker, so I said, “Right, honey?”

Without hesitation, he replied, “That’s right.”

The car wash guy nodded and said, “I hear that.”

And with that, he let me proceed into the wash like the Plum Crazy queen I apparently am.

It was not meant to sound arrogant. It was just the truth in that moment.

I am not a lot of women.

I am a woman who waited years for a Plum Crazy Purple manual Hellcat, stalled it repeatedly, got humbled by it daily, and still grins every time I hear it start.

She is excessive. She is impractical. She is loud. She gets attention. She costs more than a reasonable person would like to admit, and she has already helped me contribute financially to local traffic enforcement.

But every time I sit behind the wheel, I remember the woman on Highway 76 who rolled down her window at 65 miles per hour just to ask a stranger what kind of car they were driving.

That woman knew.

She didn’t know when.
She didn’t know how.
She definitely didn’t know how many times she would stall.

But she knew.

Day 29 - Boots of the Year

It was one of those early mornings packed full of appointments, so I came prepared with extra clothes and a plan.

Six o’clock came way too early, and I was tired before the day even had a chance to begin. My first appointment was at 8 a.m. and thankfully online, but the next one was in person at the hospital. And this was the kind of appointment where you wear your most comfortable, move-freely, slightly questionable “hobo-chic” clothes.

After that, I needed to head straight to work, so I brought my work clothes with me and changed after my appointment. The final touch was going to be my NEW beautiful gray-blue boots. They were fancy lace-up boots with these peekaboo purple-brown inserts, and honestly, they were giving me all the country-girl confidence. Since I was feeling country that day anyway, changing into them in my truck just added to the whole mood.

I was so proud of myself for getting those complicated boots laced up and looking right. I climbed out of the truck, took a few steps, and immediately thought, Wow. I do not remember these being this uncomfortable when I bought them.

But, naturally, I reasoned away the pain.

I told myself it was just going to be one of those long, painful “breaking in the boots of the year” kind of days. So I waddled up to the front door, made my way to the check-in counter, and began the check-in process.

The ladies at the desk greeted me with their usual warmth, and since I was feeling a little self-conscious—because I had only seen the dress and boots together on a hanger, not actually on my body—I casually asked how they thought my dress and boots got along.

One of the ladies said she loved the outfit. Another said she had just been admiring the boots. For a few seconds, I was feeling pretty good.

And then my come-to-pre-kindergarten moment arrived.

One of them gently asked, “Are your boots on the wrong feet?”

A wave of understanding hit me like a brick.

That was why my feet hurt so much.

Not only were the boots pointed outward, giving my waddle an extra swing, but I suddenly looked like a grown woman who had forgotten how shoes work.

The ladies were extremely gracious, and thankfully, I was able to laugh through my humiliation. One of them even got up and offered me her chair while I spent the next five minutes unlacing and relacing the Boots of the Year onto the correct feet.

And yes, I know some people may think I have it all figured out because I wear dresses, like to match, and occasionally appear put together. But the truth is, most days I am just trying to leave my pre-kindergarten shame at the door, pull on my big-girl panties, and smile bravely anyway.

Day 28 - The Beginning Again

This blog is taking a little turn.

Originally, I thought I would focus on the 64 days between September 1 and November 4. But as I started writing, I realized this story is not really about counting days. It is about noticing them. The days that stand out. The days that shift something. The days that quietly tap you on the shoulder and say, Hey… pay attention.

A few weeks ago, I had one of those days.

I realized I had been shortchanging myself.

Since graduating in 2021, life has moved at full speed. We packed up my apartment in Houston and moved back home to Colorado. Then we decided to move to the country, packed up our house in Thornton, and moved to our dream property. Six months later, a hailstorm rolled through and caused more than $40,000 in damage to the property and $20,000 in damage to our brand-new truck—the one we had not even made the first payment on yet. I’m sure our insurance company just loved us.

Then I got sick.

There was a hospitalization, an elective surgery that turned into a much bigger journey, a body that decided to rebel, nine weeks in the hospital, and then the long road of recovery. Since then, there have been three more surgeries over two years, with another one still ahead. Add in my husband’s health, another master’s program, starting and growing a new arts-in-health program, and all the regular day-by-day life stuff, and somehow my own art practice kept getting pushed to the side.

Not forgotten. Just waiting.

One of the reasons we moved to this property was the barndominium. From the beginning, it was supposed to become my studio. My place to work. My place to build. My place to dream big and make even bigger things.

But after a hard move—one that involved packing up three studios from my time at CU Boulder and two more from Houston—we did what tired humans do. We put everything into the main studio space and told ourselves we would deal with it later.

Well, “later” finally arrived.

A few weeks ago, I hired a wonderful company called The Paisley Dragonfly to help me pull everything out, organize it, and begin setting up the space with intention. And on Sunday, I could see the floor. Not the whole floor, but enough of it to feel like a small miracle. I cleaned some furniture. I found my tire clock. I started to see the studio again—not as a storage unit, but as a place where my artist-self could come back to life.

It felt like the beginning of something important.

I need my artwork to stay out of the house. I need room to build large-scale sculptures. I need a space where my creative practice is not squeezed into the leftover corners of life.

I need balance—not perfect balance, because I am not sure that exists—but a better rhythm between work, life, healing, and art.

So this is where I am now: clearing the floor, clearing the clutter, and making room for the artist I have been all along.

It is time to begin again.

Image: By AI, a dream for the future.

September 27, 2025 - Rev Your Engine and A Year of Finding My Power

I’ve been asked a few times now to rev the engine—a request that still makes me grin like a kid. This is all new to me. I’ve never owned my own sports car before, let alone one that can hold its own (and then some) against most out there. She’s got the numbers to prove it.

But here’s the funny thing: because she’s a super, I sometimes find myself wishing she sounded beefier. I know that’s juvenile—like I’m expecting the growl to match the bite—but there’s something about that sound that feels like it should announce her power. I’m learning, though, that noise doesn’t always equal performance.

Some cars roar and rattle the pavement, but when it’s time to race—they fizzle. My girl? She’s stealth. She doesn’t need to shout to prove herself. She takes her time, quietly confident, and then leaves a shimmering trail of dust behind her on the back roads she calls home.

The more I drive her, the more I realize this is love—pure, unapologetic, adrenaline-laced love.

A year ago today: https://mwilliamsart.com/64days/2024/10/1/september-27-2024

It looks like I was struggling with what art really means. I still believe anyone can be an artist, but I also believe that to be great at anything, you’ve got to put the time in. It’s pretty rare for someone to pick up something new and instantly be amazing at it.

I’ve been doing art in one form or another since I was four—that’s my earliest memory of it, anyway. I love taking my time with new mediums, figuring out how things work. Form, perspective, and scale show up everywhere, but each material has its own personality. Learning how to handle something new takes patience, and honestly, I enjoy that part.

I love learning how things move and behave, and people are no different. Meeting someone new, hearing their story, seeing what drives them—it’s all inspiring. There’s this rush, a kind of dopamine high, that hits when I connect with something or someone new. I can’t get enough of it. I’m hooked on exploring this world, one creative spark at a time.

September 26, 2025 - THREE DAYS, THREE STALLS

I’ve had her for three days… and I’ve stalled her three times! 😅

Tonight I was pulling into a parking spot at my nephew’s football game and—yep—stalled her right in front of someone on a bike. The guy laughed, I laughed, and my sister laughed. It’s becoming my thing, apparently. Every time I try to move her just a little bit, she reminds me who’s in charge. I know I’ll get the hang of it soon enough.

Still, she’s an absolute dream. I’ve become ridiculously protective of her—no food, no drinks, and definitely no fast-food bags touching my seats. Speaking of seats… they’re leather. Normally I hate leather, but she has a venting system, so no more of that awful suction-cup sound when you stand up and peel yourself off the seat. You know the one — that “schlup” noise that makes you question your life choices? Yeah, none of that anymore.

She’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. It’s like she was made just for me. 💜

A year ago today: https://mwilliamsart.com/64days/2024/10/1/september-26-2024.

That was the day I changed my hair color. I still had a few long, straggly pieces left from when it had all fallen out, but the red looked great — bold and full of life. I do miss the feeling of my long hair sometimes, but today, my hair is healthy, curly, and right at my shoulders. It’s growing fast, and I love seeing where it’s headed.

The picture from a year ago might look a little tudy — but honestly, I kind of love that. I’ve got a little ’tude, and it shows. Maybe that’s part of what makes me, me. 💜

September 25, 2025 - Changing Seasons

My program might be taking off quicker than I ever expected — and I can’t stop smiling about it. Everything seems to be shifting at once. The seasons are changing, school is buzzing with projects and deadlines, and the air feels full of possibility.

And then there’s her. My beautiful FBG. It still doesn’t feel real that she’s mine. Sometimes I catch myself glancing outside just to make sure she’s really there. In fact, last night — well, technically early this morning — I heard a noise around 2:30 a.m. and actually got out of bed to check on her. There she was, calm and gleaming in the dark, the moonlight catching her curves just right.

She’s still so unreal to me — a dream parked just outside my window.

When I start to feel overwhelmed by everything — the deadlines, the expectations, the what ifs — I think of my family motto: “I make sure.” It’s simple, but powerful. It reminds me that no matter what life throws my way, I find a way to make things happen. The song “Whatever It Takes” always plays in the back of my mind when I need that push. There’s so much in those lyrics that I connect with — the grit, the fire, the quiet determination to turn challenge into purpose.

Maybe that’s what this season is all about: transformation, courage, and the beauty of chasing dreams — no matter how unreal they still feel.

Would you like me to keep this tone (inspirational, grounded, reflective) for your next few posts too? It ties beautifully into your “season of change” arc.

A year ago today: https://mwilliamsart.com/64days/2024/10/1/september-25-2024.

I still remember exactly what it meant — what I was feeling, what I was hoping for. Lately, I’ve been thinking about doing it again. Maybe I will. I miss that version of me — the spark, the curiosity, the mix of creativity and courage that fueled those moments.

It feels like it’s still in me, just waiting for a little space to breathe again. A little bit of fire… and a lot of nice.

September 24, 2025 - From Horsepower to Snowflakes

She arrived this morning at 9:30 — just in time for me to head to my doctor’s appointment at 11. I couldn’t resist giving her a quick bath first, a proper welcome home. I had just enough time to park her and walk into the office, heart still racing from the drive.

Yes, I did stall her once — it’s been a while since I’ve driven a stick, and her clutch is tight — but oh, she is worth every second. She’s everything I’ve ever wanted and more. Classic lines, a gorgeous interior, and that sound… that perfect, throaty growl that turns heads. I’ve never owned anything so beautiful. Sure, all my other cars have served a purpose, but this one feels different — she’s art on wheels. Ever since I first learned about the Hellcats, I’ve been dreaming of one. And I knew exactly what color she had to be: Plum Crazy Purple, the shade that pays tribute to the original 1970s Challengers.

She’s perfect — every curve, every detail, every bit of her. And now, finally, she’s mine. 💜

After that thrill, my doctor’s appointment was… well, not quite as exciting. The conversation was hard — one of those deeply uncomfortable topics no one wants to discuss — but I faced it head-on. Thankfully, my doctor was kind and receptive, not judgmental or dismissive. I could feel the blush threatening to rise the entire time, but I managed to stay composed, honest, and clear. I’m actually proud of that.

I left feeling equal parts relieved and exhausted. I’m so tired of being “the new one,” the odd case, the repeat customer. Still, I have to keep my focus on the goal: to stop the pain and make room for healing — to make space for my dream to come true. My hands and heart are open.

A year ago: https://mwilliamsart.com/64days/2024/10/1/september-24-2024

The image from last year reminds me that winter is coming. I absolutely love the winter but when winter comes, my baby will need to hibernate. She has way to much power to be running around on ice. Just one more reason to love Spring and Summer. I feel like there is more of a balance between all of the seasons. Summer, Spring, and some of Fall will be spent with flowers, growth, and my FBG. Winter will be spent making pumpkin bread, quilting, and dancing in the snow. This is a must!!!!

A pic to bring me closer to my 14 frozen snowflakes.

September 23, 2025 -Then and Now

A year ago, https://mwilliamsart.com/64days/2024/10/1/september-23-2024 I was remembering the ultrasound that revealed a few blood clots in my legs — one of those moments that quietly shifts how you see your own body and health. Yesterday, I found myself back in a similar room, but this time for a very different kind of ultrasound — one that’s helping narrow the focus on what we need to do to make my dream come true.

The results were good — thankfully uneventful in the best possible way. No scary surprises, just information and direction. Tomorrow, I’ll meet with one of the best physicians around to see if they can help take the next step. Fingers crossed.

And in the middle of all this? Some extra joy — we just got word that my present will be here tomorrow! I’ve been watching the shipping updates like a kid on Christmas Eve, screenshotting every stop along the way. It still doesn’t feel real, but the anticipation is half the fun.

September 22, 2025 - The Annual Mum Mystery

A year ago: https://mwilliamsart.com/64days/2024/10/1/september-22-2024. Every fall, I do the same thing: I buy mums. Big, beautiful, full of promise — the colors I love most. Deep burgundy, golden yellow, and that perfect burnt orange that feels like autumn itself. They look so happy on the porch for a while, bursting with life, like they know they’ve arrived at the season’s grand finale.

And then… slowly… inevitably… I kill them. Every. Single. Year.

I start out with the best intentions — water, sunshine, care — but this year, life got especially busy. Between work, school, and everything in between, watering the mums wasn’t exactly top priority. Some days it would rain, and I’d think, “Perfect, I’ll water them tomorrow.” Then tomorrow would come and go, and the mental note would disappear just as quickly as the rain did.

Still, I can’t resist buying them again every year. Maybe it’s hope. Maybe it’s habit. Or maybe it’s the simple joy of that fleeting burst of color before the frost arrives — even if I know how the story ends.

Either way, next fall you’ll find me doing it all over again — cart full of mums, optimism fully restored.

September 21, 2025 - Too Excited to Sit Still

This weekend was supposed to be all about the Scottish Festival. The plan was set, the weather was perfect… but I never made it. And honestly? I didn’t care one bit. My mind was somewhere else entirely — wrapped up in the excitement of my present.

It still doesn’t feel real. Every time I think about it, I get that fluttery, can’t-sit-still kind of feeling. You know the one — where you start planning before you even have it in your hands. That’s me right now. I’ve already mapped out what I’ll do first, what I’ll change, and where we’ll go together, even though she’s not here yet.

Sometimes the anticipation is its own kind of magic. The festival will be there next year — but moments like this, where joy feels almost unreal, those are the ones you tuck away and remember.

A year ago today: https://mwilliamsart.com/64days/2024/10/1/september-21-2024

Orange Julia is still with us and we found out that she had been shot at one time. My baby is lucky to be alive. She has had a few more seizors and after she stops convulsing she runs to me. I hold her and love on her until she is ready to walk away. This is the only time she is overly affectionate. I WILL TAKE IT! I hate that she has these and unless they start being closer together, the vet doesn’t want to treat them with meds. She is way to young to be going through all that she has!

September 20, 2025 - Discovering my Roots

We had planned to go to the Scottish Festival this weekend, but after all the recent travel, schoolwork, and regular work, we decided to rest instead. Ironically, skipping the festival gave me time to reflect on something surprising I recently learned — my Irish heritage isn’t exactly what I thought it was.

For years, my family proudly celebrated our Irish roots. St. Patrick’s Day was practically a family holiday — green everywhere, Irish pride in full swing. But as it turns out, the story has a twist. After doing some research, I discovered that much of what we thought was Irish… is actually Scottish. At 46 years old, finding out I’m more Scottish than Irish was quite the shock! My cousin knew but hadn’t shared with the rest of us. One DNA test later and my world was rocked!

Now, I know I’m a mix — Scottish, Swedish, Irish, and a few other threads woven in — but this revelation sparked a curiosity I can’t seem to put down. I’ve been tracing my lineage, learning about the people who came before me. Like every family tree, mine has its saints and its scoundrels — some I’m proud of, and some I’m a little afraid to claim!

I even found our family crest and motto, which honestly explain a lot about the traits that still run through our family. I won’t give everything away (a little mystery is good for the soul), but let’s just say that when people tell me, “Just get it done,” — it might actually be in my blood.

A year ago I applied to the program I am in now. https://mwilliamsart.com/64days/2024/10/1/september-20-2024. My life is so different and still the same. So much has happened and God has sent to many blessings.

September 19, 2025 - So Easy and Now the Waiting Begins

Today, Chris purchased my present. They were waiting for him with warm smiles and a genuine welcome. Before I knew it, it was done—just like that, my present became ours. It all happened so quickly that for a moment I thought something must have gone wrong, but no—it was simply a matter of signing the papers.

Now she just needs to be shipped home… to her new home. And of course, she needs a name. In so many ways, she fits me perfectly—every detail, every mirrored curve. I think I’ve found it: FBG.

Any guesses what that stands for? 😉

A year ago https://mwilliamsart.com/64days/2024/10/1/september-19-2024. I ordered my medical records. At the time I had no idea where that would lead me. I just knew that I wanted to know more about my stay. There are still 12 days that I do not remember. It haunted me at the time, and there are still questions I have but as time moves forward I am making peace with the fact that I may never really have answers to all of my questions. I would love to sit down with my doctors for a discussion. Don’t get me wrong, I am not upset at anything. I am so thankful to be alive. I would like to know more about what lead them to move so quickly and make those life saving decisions. I am so humbled by the fact that I am still here when I have read so many stories about people in my exact situation, not making it. May God bless each and every one of them, with long life, health, and love.

September 18, 2025 - Becoming My Own Healing Space

This week has been amazing. Today was quiet as I stayed home to focus on homework, though I’ve found it challenging to keep my mind centered. I love learning about the history of my profession—where it began, where it stands now, and the direction it’s heading. Most of all, I’m fascinated by how healing environments shape a patient’s perception of their experience. Something as simple as wall color can determine whether a person feels welcomed or uneasy. Lighting, furniture, and artwork all play important roles, too. A calming landscape or gentle waterscape can bring peace, while overly abstract imagery may unintentionally create tension.

I’ve also been thinking about how appearance and demeanor contribute to the healing atmosphere. The way a doctor, nurse, or arts in health practitioner dresses and carries themselves becomes part of the environment the patient experiences. Lately, I’ve been wearing business casual instead of more formal attire, and I’ve noticed how differently people respond—less warmly, more reserved, almost as if my presence carries less authority. It’s fascinating how something as simple as clothing can shift perception. The way we present ourselves—our posture, tone, and even wardrobe—becomes part of the atmosphere that patients and staff experience.

My thoughts are scattered today—blame it on the excitement of what’s on the way. I still can’t quite believe she’s almost here. I had my eye on another one for a while, but she wasn’t quite the right fit. Now I see why that one slipped away—this one was meant to be mine.

Would love to have their waistline!

A year ago today https://mwilliamsart.com/64days/2024/10/1/september-18-2024 I was remembering the first surgery I actually remembered which was the wound vac removal from the clean out. The hair in the picture are extensions and I felt beautiful. At the beginning of this year, I cut off all of the remaining hair from what was left up to the new growth line. I really do not like short hair on me. I love my long hair but it actually looked cute. It was refreshing to let go of the old. Someone once said that loosing my hair would allow me to start over. He was right. Since I cut it all off, my hair is more healthy and curly. I enjoy it so much more. Now my hair is just about as long as my hair was in the year-ago picture.

September 17, 2025 - Forgive and Move Forward

Over the last few weeks, I have been struggling to keep up with my blog. My focus this year has been different. This year I am full of all kinds of stimulus including my new career, my second masters, getting my house set up, my husbands health, and all of my animals. I have a lot on my plate but I am kicking Ass and Taking Names! OHHHH how I feel old saying that. Age is a state of mind and you are only as old as you feel. Today, I feel 21 with 26 years and two days old…. Okay so I feel my age. A lot has happened in the last few weeks that has added to this. Today, however, I had a wonderful conversation with one of my professors who was gracious and understood what was going on. She granted me an extension on one of my assignments which after talking with her, will bring me some excitement. In just a week, I will find out if another physician will help me with my dream.

On another note, My dear husband bought me a cheer me up dream/birthday gift that is huge!!! I have been wanting one of these since I first saw one on I-76 on my way to Greeley. She was beautiful and eye catching. NEVER did I believe I would have one. From top to bottom, she is everything I could have imagined!!! I guess this is one way to cheer me up!!! Can anyone guess what it is?? Its a Vroom, Vroom, that goes Zoom, Zoom, with a Boom, Boom!!! More to come on that later.

https://www.motorbiscuit.com/3-things-u-s-news-likes-about-2023-dodge-challenger/

A year ago today: https://mwilliamsart.com/64days/2024/10/1/september-17-2024https://mwilliamsart.com/64days/2024/10/1/september-17-2024. I was looking at a series called the Resident. I did end up watching the whole things and fell in love with the characters which in a way helped me see where I needed to go with my career. Last year I felt led to do something for the hospital, something big, but I couldn’t figure out what I was supposed to do. I looked at all kinds of stuff like, making a donation, making a huge art piece, or something spectacular. Nothing sounded right. Until, I ordered my medical records and started reading them. It hit me like a ton of bricks. I finally ordered my head and when it was delivered I knew what I was supposed to do.

September 16, 2025 - The day After

A couple of weeks ago, I received some really hard news. A dream of mine, a life long dream, is in serious jeopardy. My body has been fighting this process for years and right when I think we have it figured out, something else seems to pop up. A physician that I have a wonderful professional relationships made some suggestions that crushed me. The suggestions would “fix” what is wrong but would end this dream. Even typing it out hurts and the tears keep falling. There have been other circumstances that have interfered with this dream so its not just a single string that needs to be tugged. For a couple of weeks I have been dealing with the pain and reality that this dream may be over the horizon and a new dream will have to take its place. Hopefully we will find a solution that will make this dream possible. Sometimes the answer is no and that is what is best. Accepting that reality is a whole other story. I need to keep in mind that I am here for a reason and that this life is blessed even if this dream doesn’t come true. Lord, help me change the things I can change, and accept the things I cannot change, and to know the difference.

A year ago https://mwilliamsart.com/64days/2024/10/1/september-16-2024. I was looking at my sleeping habits in the hospital. I still have a huge amount of issues sleeping. I wake up easily, everything has to be just right and my giraffe has to be close. We have found things to help with sleeping but it insomnia runs in both sides of my family so until there is a cure, I will just have to insist on my comfy pillow, blanket, warmy, and Bender! Bender is from Furturoma!

September 15, 2025 - Another Year, Another Gift

Some days arrive quietly, without fanfare, as though they’re waiting for us to notice them. Today feels like one of those days. Nothing extraordinary, and yet… everything about it matters.

I’ve been thinking about how easy it is to get caught in the rush of “what’s next.” The next deadline, the next goal, the next mountain to climb. But life keeps whispering a different invitation: pause here. Notice the sky, the breath, the way the light falls across the floor. These moments are not small—they are the foundation of everything else.

Hope often shows up in this way, not as a lightning bolt but as a steady flicker. It’s the assurance that even in the middle of uncertainty, there is beauty worth seeing and life worth living. We are not defined by what we lack, but by the love we choose to give, the courage we dare to hold, and the quiet ways we keep showing up.

So today, I want to remember this: ordinary days are never wasted. They are practice for joy. They are proof that we are still here, still breathing, still capable of growing into something more. And that is worth celebrating.

Today marks two years since I have been out of the ICU.Today I spent the day in the most precious way possible, it was my honor to be with my patients.

A year ago… https://mwilliamsart.com/64days/2024/10/1/september-15-2024. We Bronco’d!!!

September 14, 2025 - Unapologetic Bloom

Today I find myself thinking about dandelions. Some see them as weeds, stubborn and unwanted, but I see them as teachers. They push through cracks in sidewalks, spring up in the hardest soils, and open their faces to the sun without apology. They remind us that life doesn’t have to be perfect to be beautiful.

There’s hope in the way a dandelion scatters its seeds. What looks like loss is really a new beginning—a letting go that makes space for more life, more color, more possibility. We may not know where those seeds will land, but we trust that some will take root and grow.

Maybe that’s the lesson for today: that even in times of struggle or uncertainty, we carry within us the power to spread light and resilience. Just like the dandelion, our impact often goes further than we realize. A kind word, a small act of love, a moment of courage—it drifts outward, unseen but alive.

I want to remember that hope is not fragile. It is tenacious. It takes root in the most unlikely places. And sometimes, the things we dismiss as ordinary—like a humble dandelion—are the ones carrying the deepest wisdom.

Such a beautiful day! https://mwilliamsart.com/64days/2024/10/1/september-14-2024

September 13, 2025 - The River of Us

Today my heart is full thinking about my sweet family. Life is never still—it shifts, it bends, it surprises us. Children grow taller, seasons turn, and the rhythm of our days changes in ways we sometimes don’t even notice until we pause to look back.

What amazes me is how love threads through it all. Even as things change—jobs, homes, challenges, celebrations—love remains, stretching and reshaping itself to fit whatever life asks of us. Families grow not just in number, but in depth. We carry each other through storms, we laugh until our sides ache, and we find hope in one another when the world feels heavy.

There’s such joy in realizing that life doesn’t stand still—it flows forward like a river. And while that means we can’t hold on to every single moment, it also means there is always something new waiting ahead: another inside joke, another meal around the table, another memory in the making.

Change isn’t just inevitable—it’s a gift. It shows us that we are alive, still growing, still moving together through time. And in the middle of it all, I see my family, steady and shining, reminding me that this life—this ever-changing, imperfect, beautiful life—is worth every single breath.

We celebrated my dear nephew for his 18th with a surprise part!!! I had to keep it under wraps and seeing his face was such a delight.

A year ago post: https://mwilliamsart.com/64days/2024/10/1/september-13-2024

September 12, 2025 - Elegance with a Bite

Final day to finish my class and I did it! One very sad ribbon, a crazy American spider, and a fantastic interview. The class was focused on Art and the Military and it was very enlightening.

A year ago https://mwilliamsart.com/64days/2024/10/1/september-12-2024

The Dragonfly is a powerful force, ancient and underestimated. She is more than a fleeting shimmer across a pond—she is a guardian of balance, a hunter cloaked in beauty, and a symbol older than memory itself. With wings that glisten like stained glass and a body that gleams like polished emerald or sapphire, she cuts through the air with a speed and precision few creatures can rival.

To those who only glance, she may seem delicate, but the truth is far more profound. She is a predator, a master of the skies, feasting on pests that trouble the earth. Mosquitoes, gnats, and flies are no match for her sharp vision and lightning reflexes. Her flight is not just elegant—it is unrivaled. She can fly backward, hover in place like a hummingbird, and dart with such agility that even the fastest insects cannot escape her.

Yet the Dragonfly’s power is not just physical. Across cultures and centuries, she has been draped in myth and meaning. In Japanese lore, she is revered as a symbol of strength, courage, and victory in battle. In Native traditions, she is a messenger between worlds, a spirit that carries transformation and renewal. To many, she is a sign of change, adaptability, and the soul’s journey into new realms of being.

Her story begins in water, where for years she lives as a nymph, unseen and overlooked, devouring everything smaller than herself with the same relentless hunger she carries into the skies. Then, one day, she rises from the depths, sheds her old form, and emerges into the air, transformed. What was once a creature of shadows becomes a radiant being of light. This is her myth: rebirth, metamorphosis, and the revelation of true power.

She is elegant, yes, but elegance is her disguise. Beneath the shimmer lies strength, beneath the grace lies ferocity. She is the huntress cloaked in jewels, the warrior of water and air, the spirit of change. She is both beauty and beast, and her purpose is eternal. The Dragonfly reminds us that transformation is never weakness—it is power, it is magic, it is destiny.

September 11, 2025 - My heart hurts

There has been a lot of pain in the media today. My heart is heavy with sadness as there are people who spend more time focusing on politics instead of looking at how our laws have been violated. We live in a country where we have free speech and the right to choose what party we support. These are crucial for our system but when we put that over the value of a life, we have failed. We are loosing what makes us the United States.

A year ago I had found one of the funniest videos around https://mwilliamsart.com/64days/2024/10/1/september-11-2024. Light hearted and fun. As a society and nation, we are in a much different climate.