Jodi Hills

So this is who I am – a writer that paints, a painter that writes…


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Turning yellow.

Something told me we wouldn’t be there long. It was more than basement dark. The whole house seemed to know that changes were coming. Still I picked a color for my bedroom that I thought would change things. Yellow. Yellow carpeting. Bedspread. I tucked myself inside all of that hope. Of course my father still left. We had to sell the house. So you might say it didn’t help at all. While it’s true, it didn’t change circumstance, it did change my mood, and my heart to this day. 

Maybe it’s the exhiliration of spring, or just a new day, but whenever I need a lift, or want to give one, I turn to yellow. It doesn’t change the basement, but it does light a path. I pray you can see it. It contains a thousand stars. A glorious sun. Even the lemons know, and rely on the promise of what’s to come. So I send it on word and wing — all things yellow, all things hope.