The current works in progress for this week. I can feel a shift in my daily thought (and work) process, which is basically summed up in how fast can I get the rest of this stuff done so I can play? A thought process I did not think would be mine until the kids were grown and gone. It’s happening now, though, and it’s so lovely.
I find myself a bit tongue-tied as I try to explain what this new impetus to create is to me. It is a gift borne out of pain. I am who I am and I am creating what I am creating because of a profound stripping away. I was left with nothing, or so I thought- and out of the ashes, this was what was born. It belongs to me, entirely. No one can lay claim to it. This is a strange claim, I am sure. I claim it anyways.
I laughed pretty hard when I read that quote of Mark Twain’s the other day. We really try so hard to throw things out the window sometimes and then are alarmed at the results. I’m learning to coax this creating habit down the stairs one step at a time. I can feel a turn in the stairs this week- what is in my head is making its way to the page in a smoother manner, my technique is getting more consistent. I don’t feel like I’m taking one step forward and then four back. I’m generally moving the direction I’d like to go.
With it, I feel a piece of my soul has shifted back into right places, no longer a phantom limb. It’s going to sound crazy, but I can tell because I don’t care about the house chores anymore. I don’t think I ever quite realized how ‘taking care of the house’ was my coping mechanism, my way of controlling the uncontrollable during the storms- but now, crunchy floors going on three days? Who cares? I’ll get to it on Saturday. Playing and painting are winning out every day. There is a habit I can get behind!