Mostly behind the scenes sort of work going on now. Orion starts kindergarten next week.
I know. I can hardly believe it myself.
So with a tinge of melancholy for the end of his stay-at-home years, I prepare for the changes in my own time and space by preparing space for the deluge of art I know will come soon.
I don't need to see the light at the end of a tunnel to know it's there.
And I don't have to hear the whistle to know the light is a train.
So I dust and paint, clean windows, put up new shelves and pegboard.
Everyone I've talked to in the past couple of days is in some weird sort of fugue. Not desperately unhappy, just restless and dissatisfied. As I'm not really interested in trading my friends for new ones, (and hopefully, vice versa) I suppose we'll just slog through it together.
Yesterday I had a flash of inspiration for a new piece and immediately spent some time working on it and ordering the other parts I'll need to finish. It always starts this way, (the deluge)with a flash here and there. Like labor pains, coming faster and faster, lasting longer each time, until I produce something I'm happy with. Or something I fall in love with and don't want to part with for a minute, though I know it must be released into the world...or kindergarten.
How is it that artists and writers can work so urgently in the present, yet at the same time always hold hope that our best work is in our futures?
This morning Pete woke me at 3:30 so we could see the lunar eclipse. It was eerie and beautiful. One night, when I was a wee tot and the moon was full, my mother (who was talented and smart and quite lune-y) whistpered in my ear that it was following me. I tried running from it and, damn, it did follow! I ran and ran and ran until I couldn't anymore. I can't begin to tell you how much that creeped me out. I sat in the grass and cried. I hid inside. I didn't sleep well for days. Then my brother, nerd that he is (which saved my butt more than once) explained about the illusion. And a bit about our mother.
(Hmm. I think I should phone my brother soon. )
But this morning I enjoyed the site with the wonder, thrill and affection felt by millions of other humans who watched too.
If you're interested, go to Shadow and Substance, where there's a fairly cool animation of the eclipse, which (after seeing the real thing) looks remarkably realistic.
After the eclipse, I slept, but not so well. Lots of weird dreams---and I awoke sort of tired, as though I'd been running...
If you haven't looked at the moon in awhile. Do. It's good for you. If you're slogging through, chin up. Everything changes.