I have been writing...just not here

As a female of the species, I excel at multitasking. Well, I did in my earlier life. Now I single-task in a multiple fashion. Moving from one thing to another, my mind plans the next foray with aplomb except for the occasional brain fade when I get to the next room and forget why I went there.

Single mindedness comes with age - at least I assume it does. It has for me. I savor more, do things completely so I don't have to come back to them and I ignore an overburdened closet simply by closing the door. Hey, it is important to pick your battles.

Art and writing are more important to me than dust. Lately, though, construction has planted plenty of the stuff on every surface of the house so I am back to multitasking. I write a bit and swipe a cloth over the desk. I sweep out the studio in prep for the summer, taking paints from their winter storage out to their regular home, while simultaneously swiping a counter top with a cloth as I pass by. I clean plaster dust and wood splinters from the inside of the washing machine (I mean, really guys?) and then do the wash.

The new bathroom is coming along nicely. I will be happy when we can stop going down two flights of stairs to use the other bathroom. It will be a twofold luxury when it is done in a few weeks.

I've kept up with my journal, adding watercolors to the pages when a light touch is needed and pictures of trips and construction progress to illustrate the dialog of my days. I spent four nights at an inn in Gloucester a few weeks ago, painting at a beach I found in Manchester-by-the-Sea on the first day. The air was cool - mid to high 50's - but the sun made it feel warmer. I sketched the scene, adding notes to my drawing so I'd remember the color of the water and the sweep of the clouds. The next day I set up my easel, digging the legs into the soft sand and, stretching a bungee cord over the tray, anchoring it with two big milk bottles filled with water. I accepted its quirky tilt - uneven ground being what it is.

Life is uneven. The axis tilts this way and that and I find my footing either by digging in and firmly planting my thoughts or flowing with it. Both work to different degrees. It would be plenty boring if there was a sameness to every day. I know people with lives like that. I guess they must like it that way because they continue to do it year in and year out.

I prefer edges that shift and change like the waves on the shore. When I was in Gloucester, the beach was different each morning. The clear, rocky beach of that first afternoon became riddled with seaweed on the second day. The sea pulled some of it out with the next tide so the arrangement was different - undulating strips of seaweed hiding sea glass treasures in with the pebbles underneath their mounds. I accepted the changes with a sense of excitement and discovery looking forward to rounding the corner to find out what I would see.

When things are serene, I find untold pleasure in my own discoveries. A good book, rhythmic stitches woven into the shawl I am working on and the plunge and pull of silk thread through a needlepoint canvas. Good conversation with friends culminating in laughter and hugs. I am grounded by my pleasures. They help me meet my challenges with a bit more grace.

Some Things Never Change

Frye Measure Mill, NH

I got a laptop a few months ago to replace my old, sluggish desktop and give me freedom to write wherever I liked.  When I first transferred files to the new computer, I purged redundant photos.  Now, I am going through some of the documents.

This morning, I came across some journal writings.  While I prefer hand-writing them, there are times when my book isn't with me and I resort to computer entries.  One file, 105 pages long, was from 1993 when I still had Creative NeedleArts and would write at work after everyone left.  It was password protected and I had a moment of panic - that was nineteen years ago!  I had a universal password then and I tried it - I'm in.

Some things apparently don't change. My laments are pretty much the same.  That doesn't mean I haven't moved forward.  It just means that my creative concerns have a fallback reason for being.  Time and a plethora of ideas.

I constantly have ideas crowding my brain about other things to design and get into.... I am driven (but why?) to create new ideas; I'm just frustrated by the restrictions of time.  I keep pushing the parameters of time. 

I can guarantee that I have sung this song many times over the years.  My interests are expansive; my ideas for paintings, writing and needlework are like a fountain which never turns off.  I read voraciously.  I have messy closets.  I desperately need to have a yard sale.  My art supplies are ordered, though, so my priorities are straight in one respect.  

It occurs to me that a creative mind can be one's bane of existence as well as its blessing.  

Have I finally reached the point in my life when I accept the activity in my head, knowing I cannot act on all of it?  Writing down notes and ideas keeps them from disappearing in the crowd.  I can get them back to the top of the pile anytime I want.  

Relishing my varied interests is delectable.  Worrying over the lack of time to explore them all isn't.  Today I immerse myself in the ones on the top of my pile.

A Bit of Sun Among the Raindrops

Today has been blessedly sunny. Indian summer, perhaps. It seems like it has been raining forever and more is forecast for the weekend. I couldn't resist the temptation of the unexpected warmth and stayed home from work today to get started on readying the house for winter.  I made good headway but I am losing steam.  Perhaps a glass of wine and a comfy chair on the deck will do the trick.  I imagine it is time to stop anyway.

The lake below is ringed with vibrant color.  The lowering sun points out the brightest branches and shines its spotlight on them while allowing the deeper greens to fade into the shade. Reflections on the still water double the pleasure. I am entranced by the pockets of color and I pull my feet up under me to settle in and enjoy the view.

With all our travels this summer, the days have sped by. We have had a good time but now I feel like it is my time to hunker down and take care of the things I have neglected. Appointments are made, some of the broken items are getting repaired. Paperwork is sorted and (mostly) filed or shredded. I am amazed at how much I can accumulate in a few months!  Even though I have simplified my paper handling, so much still comes in.  Even email needs tamed.  Once solicited e-newsletters and postings have been unsubscribed.  My interests have changed and some have expanded in new directions.

I have been focusing on my book research in the past few weeks.  Most of my writing has been with pen in hand lately which is great for short jottings. Impressions and ideas, scenes and phrases for the novel flow unrestrained and I know I'd forget them if they weren't written down.  My little notebook travels with me - I never know when something will set me off on a path.  One word can do it. I am eager to see where it will take me.

October...ALREADY?

My focus this summer has been a creative one.  It started with a long weekend on the Cape painting at a cozy harbor in Truro. Family visits over the Fourth of July were sun-filled and blissful on the lake and at the beach.  A trip to the Adirondacks in August left us nature-saturated and rested.  We finished it off with long days under the sun on East Beach in Charlestown, RI and threw in a trip last weekend to Buffalo to see family and go to Bob's 50th high school reunion.

Hickory Hills July 4th Boat Parade

Needless to say, time flew.

When there is a lot going on, I have to make harder choices on what to do with the rest of the time. This summer, I spent my writing time working on my journal which has evolved into an art/memoir kind of book.  I love how it has expanded over this year and combines sketches, photos, watercolor and words.


Our new long-haired dachshund, Mario, loves adventure and riding in the convertible.  His limit is about 55 miles an hour and then he slides back along the window.  We have to keep a firm hand on his leash or I bet he would try to climb right out onto the hood for a better view.
Water is his other passion and will swim and explore, jumping from rock to rock, until he is shivering and must be bodily removed and wrapped in a towel (for which he is grateful until he warms up and is ready for another go at it).

The weather has been wonderful - summery hot with nice breezes.  Now it is autumn and the leaves are building wattage towards brilliant color.  Pumpkins and mums grace front porches.  The air is crisp and I need to go to the Price's barn in town and see if the first batch of cider is ready.  I will look for the table by the road with the jugs on it and put my money in the Cool Whip container with the rock on top.  Then I will know it is autumn for sure.