This week has been so busy. Every day a doctor, dental or eye exam. Errands to run, people to see, appointments to keep, laundry and cleaning. Bug sprayers, landscapers, adjusting the watering times. Run, run, run...rush, rush, rush.
When Dad was first diagnosed, and in the hospital, having such a difficult time, all my "daily and weekly duties" came to a screeching halt. Guess now, that Dad is more at peace, more calm and resolved to living in the nursing home, we can take a collective sigh, and get back on track...
Because I am Blessed to be retired, having a week of scheduled appointments, really tweaks my tolerance, and encroaches upon my naps. I've grown accustom to puttering, contemplation (of my navel, as Mom calls it) and keeping my own rhythm during the course of a day.
Often, that rhythm is not productive enough...but when I am committed to a schedule, all of a sudden, I am motivated to write, to paint, or explore with my camera... This blog has been wonderful company and therapy for me. It is not a burden, as I thought it would be. Instead, it is the anticipation of sitting down with a close friend, enjoying a cup of tea.
Visiting the various artist's and writer's blogs, inspires me, lifts me up, and invites me to dance... Some how, I have stumbled into this wonderful world of fellow blogger folks, who form this wide, ever-stretching, group hug of support. Its like being part of a giant compass pointing in the right direction...
I long for my garage studio to cool down, so the stifling heat won't bake the creativity from my brain. It's starting to cool down a bit at night, so I could roll up the garage door and flip on my Ott light...
Those unfinished paintings are whispering to me, beckoning to me to bring each one to life.
Often, late at night, or in the wee hours of the morn...when all is still and quiet. Then, as in my childhood, I feel swept away into a mystical journey...
If feels so good, when that inspiration, excitement, motivation, all well up inside me as if it will overflow and carry me away. I LOVE that feeling! When I am painting or writing, I feel transported to another dimension. Cocooned inside a magical kind of time warp. Usually the music, which is always playing when the brushes come out, flows through my soul, down my arms into my fingers, out my hands, onto the paper, entrancing me into my inter sanctum of creativity...
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