I’ve been in a vortex – tunnel – tidal wave – whatever you wanna call it of selling, buying and moving houses. And along with it, a long drawn out process of weeding out things we no longer need. The accumulated stuff. The boxes that got moved last time and have almost never been opened. The detritus. The evidence of stuff that no longer matters, and may already be forgotten. I’ve run across everything in my own past. All my old letters. All my old relationships. Friendships. Old writings. Ideas. Thoughts. Journals. Too much. Too much. Too much!
I’ve managed to eliminate a lot. Because I realize that the people aren’t in those things. They are in me. And so I’ve let a lot of paper evidence go. To lighten the load. And to allow my heart and mind to do the work of remembering, instead of leaving that precious task to a dusty box. Yes, much I’ve shredded, tossed and sent packing. Much I’ve kept.
I’ve found things I’d forgotten. This was one of them. I painted this for an early draft of a book I made with Janet Champ, Ripe. It made me happy to see this again. It felt like amessage that had been sent forward from the past.
At 52 I am far happier than I was when I painted this. Happier in my skin. More content. And I am grateful to be able to use that word full of soft-landings and second chances. I hope time is giving all of you that same gift.
The wind is howling outside. Spring turbulence. Things never sit still, do they?