it's in the 90s today here in arkansas. i am book-ended by hot and cold extremes, very few places on the planet experience. I miss writing. i miss the sound of my keys and my voice overlapping in the written word, not silent, but not spoken. I actually speak a lot. MANY time over women and men have heard my story in public, and it has been therapeutic, but it's grown almost, dare i say, annoying and cringy to hear my own voice. I do love saying things in an accent, however. not a lot changes in that world. New week, new accent! My dogs & daughter think i'm kooky and that's fine. i am. Worse things than kooky, if you ask me.
I feel that grief plays a large role in creative block. Also, depression. I have learned so much about the process of being a person with a disability & that sort of liminal existence, as well as being very successful and happy where i am, but only due to gratitude. this year, i gave away more time than i earned a wage for. but it has a incredible feeling of joy behind it. money canna buy that. sassenach. :) I always hope, in some delusional part of me, that certain people I have loved will read my blog. without interrupting their lives or emailing or causing a muck, I hope people can see an update & figure i'm still out here, alive and hopeful. I never sold rings or got desperate and left my home. i am in the same spot now 5 years later. My mother passed away here. I developed my spirituality here. i made recovery happen here. sometimes, i feel it's time to move on, but my kid is only a single year from college now. i stay put & wait for that. then i can go... to california. to scotland. to just about anywhere i please. that was the right path and that was smart. i do not regret the wonderful relationship we have, nor choosing it.
i might also never wander off this arkansas hill, and that's okay too.
i might make art again. i might follow my lover to colorado in a converted camper van and sell trinkets and crystals. i certainly have so much vitality and life left in me. in many ways, i feel this is just the beginning of another entirely different story. letting go all the frustrations of the past and moving forward without them weighing me down any more. not trauma or resentments or addictions to feed- but just one unceremoniously serene day after the next, which are all just fine. unremarkable is, as unremarkable does. i certainly have had a huge adventure in life. i hope to have many more.
my work and publications in a stack in my studio |
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