I should be sketching right now. I know. I'm procrastinating. 12 sketches due tomorrow and I have 8 done. Looks like I'll be working a little this evening. Oh well. I need a break now. This weekend I was a little lopie-rollercoaster (sorry Colin). Saturday I wondered what I was doing with my life. Why it is that I constantly feel like I'm waiting for my life to begin? Where is that thing I've been looking for? That nameless thing that will make me feel like "THIS IS IT." I can stop paddling now and just enjoy this river. So saturday night as I was clumped up on the floor and mascara was running down my cheeks, we had a flash of insight.
We need to burn stuff.
So I put on a big ugly sweatshirt, poured myself a glass of wine and set out to build a fire. Fire always helps. I sat by the fire and just spilt everything I had bottled from that day...the stress of last week... the launch of the new IF... 60 billion emails... messy house... boredom... too much to do... just let it all hang out. Tears dripped into my glass and the fire was a blurry orange waterfall.
I felt better.
Sunday I decided NO WORK. NO COMPUTER. No paint. No inside. (Very eloquent am I.) So I got outside and stayed there. Weeding all my flower beds, planting 50 new flowers, getting my hands so dirty they refused to come clean (still have black under my fingernails and I don't give a damn).
As I do yoga now, I look down and notice that there is dirt all over my left foot. Must be from watering this chilly morning. I push into my pose and feel all this tension. Breathe it out.
I still feel like I'm waiting. But being outside makes that feeling duller.
What am I waiting for?
Fire, dirt, sweat.