I am trying to be proactive and carve out some time for me each week. Mainly to get out for a hike, but occasionally to get to my worktable in the dinigroom turned studio. I tend to lean towards outdoor, camera time since it covers getting some exercise too. This morning I took a trek down to the stream. The recent rain, snow and runoff, plus the beaver dams have the water moving right along. This was the only bit of ice on display, and I can’t say I’ve ever seen one quite like it. It’s a good reminder for me that sometimes things just occur, that I don’t know how things will turn out, and that I can only be so prepared for them.
Saturday evening I had the rare opportunity to be on my own. A thing that hasn’t occurred in over a year at least. I was tempted to soak in a nice hot bath, or putter in my studio, maybe even read for a full hour. But I chose to get out and watch the last of the day slip from view. I was not disappointed in my choice. The twilight and sunset were lovely, the air just the right temperature to not need gloves, and the quiet time a balm for my spirit. Sometimes time all by yourself to just be yourself and to relish the quiet is as better than anything money can buy.
For some time now I have awaited the right moment to dive into this new project. The moment arrived just days ago, spurred in part by a feeling of never getting to create and a feeling of make it happen. It felt good to get back to my work table and pull out supplies, to cut the phrases I had marked from Never Coming Back, and to sort through the box of flea market photos I got many years ago. I do not understand my compulsion to do an series of Alzheimer’s based pieces, but as soon as I read Alison’s book I knew I had to. Time is precious to me, I struggle to make a spot in my schedule to pursue what calls me. Yet not to, to let everything else take over is not the best use of my time after all.