i hid from all forms of technology yesterday and lay under a hard rain that is still coming down right now. life-long, i've been a RAIN HATER but suddenly, strangely, the hate i feel toward a wet day is thinning out of me. i was so pleased by the sound of it on the roof all day yesterday, and when i woke up and heard it, still here dancing, it made me feel clean and safe. seems, i have changed my ways. ha!
and my coffee steams. the sound of morning traffic begins. my dog is asleep in the spot on the bed that i rose from, curled up in the warmth i left there, snoring. i am in my black and white striped footie pajamas, hair twisted up in a ballerina bun, sitting cross-legged like a little kid, bad posture and all. my paintings look beautiful to me today and i feel a great hope that everything really will be okay.
a flood of writing has been coming out of me- all trapped in my notebook, things i don't have the stomach to type up now that i'm out of the moment when it first came pouring out. and the more i read, the more i write, the more i care about what writing can be and do... what art can be and do. and it's funny how once i gave myself permission to slow down, the work sped up and just comes searing out on to the page or canvas. the self-imposed constraints have fallen away and i am just chasing chasing chasing this thing, hopeful and flailing and hurting, trying my best to keep up with the heavy rush of all these ideas...
but it was nice to stay away from the computer yesterday. it was even nice to not read anything. have a day of rest. have a silly day, a laundry day, a movie day, a day full of cuddles and hugs and funny memories. and then sunday dinner with our neighbors. it has become a tradition. back and forth, back and forth, and so much loud, happy laughter. it feels like family. normal family stuff. and normalcy has become a great and deep comfort to me. whenever and however it occurs. simple pleasures. the small stuff. sitting down to a home-cooked meal, all together at a table, is something i do not take for granted. it is always wonderful. a big big blessing.
and so as the week wakes up, i wake up too; but i am careful not to put too many things on my TO DO list. the rain helps me out endlessly in that regard.
the world is green and grey outside. and cold, cold, cold. i will stay in my footie pajamas for awhile longer. drink coffee. enjoy. be still. be satisfied. the rain beating down. the traffic sounds. a snoring rottweiler named inga. the click of keys under my finger tips.
these texts are an archive of my life in the San Francisco Bay Area from march 2007 - march 2015. it stands as a record of close to a decade of my life, charting the struggles i faced as an artist, daughter, and lover. messy and chaotic at times, eloquent and poetic at others, these texts are an index i am proud of. it was here in this electric box that i learned how to be honest about my experiences and the person i needed to become. it was here that i first learned the truism that words make the world and how to trust such a beautiful, rife, hard fact.
thank you for meeting me here in such tall grass.
my artist website is here.
my artist website is here.