Just when I said I should at least show up, I didn't. It's not that I don't think about showing up. Of course I do, usually when my hands are dirty with the dirty work of sculpting, or I'm in the car doing the driving work of a mom.
I'm in survival mode. I wonder how well I'm doing, because sometimes I think I'm not doing it at all. I wonder how other single mom/artist types are getting along. I'm guessing if they're out there (and I'd assume they are) they're sort of like me and don't spend the time to seek each other out.
If you're struggling, tell me how you're doing it. I'd like to know more about the company I'm in. It's difficult enough to be an artist. More so in a time when art gets usurped by the immediacy of other concerns. We must step back, we artists (and writers too) and look at our collective long term contributions to this human experience. We may not feel very needed right now, but we are. Don't think for one minute that we're not.
That said, there have been good moments. There are always good moments, even when things are difficult. It serves us well to focus on those and on other people. Eventually, some day in the future, today may make a bit more sense.
On Wednesday, Orion and I got up early, watched the sunrise together in the chilly morning air and joined his fellow students, teachers, parents and city officials for our Walk to School Wednesday.
On Tuesday before that, we jumped into the pool and climbed out as quickly as possible. What a difference a week of cooler weather can make! We stuffed ourselves into neoprene and tried it again with more success.
I'm adjusting to life without Aubrey here. Not only do I miss her company but I miss all her help with Poppet Planet. I haven't decided how to fill the gap yet. In the meantime I'm getting a bit of help from friends here and there. She posted some lovely photos on facebook of herself and Jordan at a lake. It looked chilly, green and beautiful there.
It's very easy to get discouraged, especially after a week of getting up too early and working too late. But when I got in tonight there was a box waiting by my front door. I saw David Kirkpatrick's name on the return and a little spark went off in my brain. I haven't opened it yet, but I know it contains bits of laboratory discards. They'll be packed in protective material, and secreting inspirations and little stories.
I want to be done surviving. I want to disappear into other places and bring back stories. But it's not my time, not just yet. Just like it may not be yours. Don't give up. When the time comes, it will be all the better for the wait. I didn't make this up. It's just the way it works. Trick is, to believe it now. In the meantime, don't forget to laugh. Silly humans.
Is this reason, or faith? Talk to me.