I hardly know what to do with myself, now that I don't have a pressing deadline to meet with any of my art or jewelry. So the weekends are once again time for R&R, which leaves me feeling, well, disoriented. I know I've had this conversation with other artists before. It's composting time, that wierd uncomfortable place between projects that is actally in perfect keeping with the season at the moment.
There is so much I could be doing. Getting my house in order, cleaning up from the many piles strewn about during the past several months. But somehow this downtime leaves me feeling less and less like doing anything at all. And yet my mind is busier at times like these than when my hands are working. Total monkey mind. Even while I am chanting in my head.
I am trying to appreciate the space. Enjoy a nap. Spend more time brushing my cat. Dream while riding on the back of the motorcycle with nothing better to do than take in the breathtaking scenery and let my mind wander where it will. No matter that the additions to the house that I construct in my head will likely never break ground. Or that my resolve to clear out the house and create a less cluttered sanctuary may take years.
This is where fertility is seeded. Deep beneath the consciousness of intent and purpose. Who knows what will surface months from now because I took the time to do not much of anything today.
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