I’ve started to write a post twice but was stopped by a sense of futility: faced with blankness, my mind was blank, too. This is my third attempt and I figured it was easier to just start typing and see what happens. Sometimes, words flow better if you open the valve without looking at what you are doing; let them pour from between your fingers, between the keys of the keyboard, gush from the wellspring of a mind that sometimes needs to be tricked into thinking.
The sun shone all weekend; the sky a flawless blue. In the early mornings and in the evenings, the light lies like a glimmer on every blade and tuft and leaf. It’s not as if I had a lot to do these past two days; nevertheless, I have been constantly in motion: busy, working, a million little things to clean and sort and start and do.
I read a bad book and now I’m reading what I hope is a good one. Usually I can stop when I hit the bad books. Life’s too short to read bad books; but I kept thinking it would get better. It wasn’t badly WRITTEN, but the plot points were heavily manufactured and the author kept making clumsy references to things that dragged my attention from the story, so that I landed with a thud outside the book. Anyway, now it’s in the bag for the media sale and I’ve started the book for book group, which so far, is flowing along and pulling me with it in the way that good books do. Effortlessly, and well, not mindlessly, but mindfully.
Today I drew a garlic bulb and a lemon, whole and sliced. I want to do one more illustration before bedtime, maybe a strawberry. Something sweet. It’s not exactly drawing; I’m cheating a bit and tracing but then adding my own spin to the line to make it mine.
The rosebush in the front has exploded again; full to bursting with peachy gold pinkness. It’s so pretty it makes my heart ache. I take photos of it constantly; I can’t stop. Won’t stop. I want it to last forever. I know that’s part of what makes it so beautiful: the knowledge in the back of your mind that it won’t last forever. It’s why we take photos of our children, our parents, our loved ones, isn’t it?
A good weekend with lots accomplished and much relaxing, to boot. I hope yours was the same.