I have been away a long time - and will probably continue to be away for a long time to come. And I miss you, every one of you. Even those of you that I haven't met. I miss the camaraderie of the BBEST team, the support through trying times, the delight and joy of sharing a history, and era. I miss talking to you all, knowing how you are and where you are in your lives and in your creative journeys. I miss my friends who remember real rock and roll and macrame plant hangers and curtains. I miss sharing song lyrics and jokes.
Work is crazy busy, and I tell myself that I am lucky to have a job. That I need to "suck it up" and "stay the course." That this should be for just a moment in time, that soon I will come back to my heart, to my creative core. That working from 7 am to 8 pm is not going to last much longer, that I am taking steps to resolve it, that things will get better.
And all the while, with my determination, I pray that I am telling myself the truth. I long for balance, for the opportunity to paint and play and paste and glue and write and think about art. I want more time to spin and knit and crochet and felt. I wrap a wrist brace around my hand, sore with carpel tunnel from too much computer work, and walk through the craft room to admire the new acrylic paints that I bought - 18 months ago.
And I feel alone. Not that my DH doesn't love me and help me - or sympathize with me - but that he just doesn't understand. He doesn't understand the connection with my internet creative friends. He doesn't understand my need for time to create. But you know, even if he did there isn't anything he could do. No one has found that time machine in Harry Potter - you know, the one that allows Hermione to be in two places at once? I want one of those. I have more to do that I can say grace over.
So here I sit, preparing to write this blog, and pouting. Thinking that I don't have any new techniques to share with you, like Six did in her recent post, nor have I had the opportunity to teach, like Altheap. Browsing through the many many wonderful things in the BBEST Team shops, checking out your blogs, wondering what I might have to say that would interest you all, marveling at the creativity in your lives, and pouting. I think about how inspiring you all are - and how I say that each time I post - but I don't know if you know how much you all mean to me, and so I wonder if my words sound trite. So pouting. Geez. I absolutely hate myself when I pout. I feel like an ingrate, someone who does not appreciate all the wonderful gifts I have in this life.
Seriously, Shame On Me!!!
I know the drill. I know that Help Is Not On The Way. If there is one thing that I get, it is that my life and my time are my own. And pouting garners nothing. Nuuuuuuuuuuuttttttttthhhhhing! As Sergent Shultz used to say.
Here is the scene: The children were lined up in the cafeteria of a Church elementary school for lunch.
At the head of the table was a large pile of apples. The nun made a note, and put it on the apple tray...
'Take only ONE. God is watching.'
Moving further along the lunch line, at the other end of the table was a large pile of chocolate chip cookies.
A child had written a note, 'Take all you want. God is watching the apples.'
Hehehe! Delighted that God is watching the apples, I took my jillion thoughts about posting here (should I write about my cat, my search for new kittens, all the cool cat items in your shops? should I write about spinning and how, when I get to spin I meditate on peace? should I write about spring and how, when I get outside my heart fills with joy? should I write about the struggles as we get older? should I write about antique sock knitting machines? new books? writing? should I pontificate on civility? how about paints or what happens when I type in "BBEST spring Red" in the search engine? maybe I could opine on my generation, filled with peace and kindness and creating less than that in our lifetimes? should I consider the financial mess, or history? egad.) and made myself get up and take a walk to get some perspective. I took the camera along, and came back with the pictures that you see scattered through this post.
They are my gift to you, a little something from my yard to your eyes, with hope straight from my heart that they may inspire you and give you a smile. You wonderful people do that for me.
It is a gift to stop in the rush of this time and think about creating. A gift to have a chance to share with you - and to take advantage of what you always share with me. I am grateful for this commitment of occasionally guest blogging here. It is a reminder that the creative life is close to me, that I have not lost myself completely. I adore you all. And with the gift of your inspiration, I am going downstairs now, giving myself an hour to create, to smile, to bring peace to myself and my home, to spin.
Much and much love.