Ode To The Next Chapter

BLUE

You give your love and friendship unconditionally. You enjoy long, thoughtful conversations rich in philosophy and spirituality. You are very loyal and intuitive.

Find out your color at QuizMeme.com!

It's been a little time since I posted. Life has edged in and I feel that all the changes which surround me are good for the soul, and I breathe. Blue is definitely my favorite color, always has been. I like the colors of the sea's palette: blue, green, and all the soft shades in between that range to violet and grey and white.

Somehow moving brings up ideas of sufficiency, and my husband and I had a conversation about the idea of self-sufficiency and how perhaps it is a misnomer. I agree to an extent, but I am much more an advocate of people creating things with their own hands.

I think about the stuff in our lives, and I want to make sure I pack my boxes with only very important things.
~What are my favorites?
~What are the things I cannot live without?
~What are the things that wear me down and I need to quickly get rid of?
~What are the things that I don't want right now, but are important enough to keep?

These questions are spurred by the moving process yes. I am finding things that do not belong in my life anymore. Things that are space fillers that I do not love, but have acquired through chance and the freedom of passage for which free things boast. But they are not my favorites, and they surely will obscure the windows in the new place that I will live.

I am also finding objects which perhaps have not been given their "due" and I will arrange them in a more prominent place next time. There are things which I know will go to someone else whom will need them more or be able to re-purpose.

I have vision of simplicity, yes. I have visions of that palette of the sea, the type of home where the focus is out towards the horizon, and the objects which compose it aid the mind in reaching out for new things and accomplishments. So they must themselves speak of that.

We will be living by the sea for a year. It will be a change from the country, and the valiant mountain sunrises that I am use to now. I will miss the deer and the lengthy buttercups, and hanging the wash to flap in the hot sun.

The back of my mind had been filled with a picture, a picture which contains sunset and the movement of water. Had I been able to clear away the debris of life, I might have allowed this vision prominence, as it now seems strangely a flash of the future, although I never gave it it's "due" at the time.

So excuse my absence, anyone, if you are out there and you read such blatherings. I am filling the boxes right now, making my decisions, allowing my future in by the things I exclude. I want so much to not to let who I am and the choices I make be defined by my "stuff".

I have decided to pack much away, and spend a year living and writing overlooking the sea.

I am giving up a lot, namely space and my sewing studio, the china of course will go into storage the the collection of crystal will rest somewhere as well. I remain confident of being lead by an invisible hand. And there are places in life which call us forward, challenge us to find ourselves not in the echo, but in the sun as it rises anew.

Please check in, I might need support. The sewing machines will come, but no longer have a room of their own, and my fear is surely that they will come to rest in the corner during the very time which I deemed to create a portfolio. But book #2 needs to be completed also, and these character hang in my mind like a nagging wife raging with a teenager who doesn't want a curfew. And it has been too long since I could indulge them, enter a space, a calm frame, where I can give them life on the page, enter into their time and their space, and forge them onwards to deal with their own changes and passions.

Here I go, where I stop? Moving along is about being open to being moved along. To letting that inner self be a guide, and quieting that nagging devil on the shoulder that says, "You can't do that, but what about.....

Draw a new circle people, do it, or else all you will have is truly an echo.

These were rescued, that last of Love. The winds have come, and only the strong remain not wilted and shattered. Autumn, yes, it looks like a go for some studio time. I have been doing a little hand quilting in my chair, pondering as usual the purpose of life.

I was thinking about all these stitches, and how each has it's meaning, responsible somewhat for those maverick thoughts on random subjects that are sewn into layers.

Do Something Creative Today

Even if that means just getting dressed with lots of color! I notice that the people that seem more cheery and interesting are often dressed in loud color. Particularly this lady I saw wearing turquoise pants, a hat with white and orange patterned brim, and a shirt of an entirely different hue. I thought for a moment about the absurdity of the outfit, before realizing that on her it didn't entirely look bad, in fact I much appreciated her sensibility as it seems age makes change and mixing things up all the more hard for people.
I sprained my hand, so the studio accomplishing has halted for now. I will let my knuckle rest up and in the meanwhile will do a little organization.
I have again been pondering the meaning of life. I get stuck sometimes with fascination on all the different journeys' that people undertake in this life. How do choice and fate mix? And what of the hand of God? If this earth is a school, then our challenges make sense due to the concept that good comes in the form of learning. But what is there to gain from disease and troubles that have always plagued mankind? Forgive me because maybe I delude myself with the waterfalls of books that occupy curiosity thus inviting these enigma's to rest a while. Suntan even. Sometimes I feel like the quest for understanding the purpose of life is as the ant which frenzies about bearing the burden of large crumbs for another. Perhaps this issue is the largest question mankind has found to ask other than where do we come from?
Why does color lift the mood? Why am I on a bean sprout kick? How come the clouds have to hid the stars?
I think creativity hinges on people doing new things. As if flux and determination could gel into a pudding for consumption, or the wave flee the ocean.