Tuesday, November 04, 2008
Monday, November 03, 2008
You could hardly tell by the color or the weather but it's autumn here on Long Island. I have smelled the drifting scent of fireplaces and that very earthy smell of leaves composting themselves. My husband has set the heat to come up a little warmer at dawn. We don't like to sleep in a hot room but the mornings are now too cold to ignore. It won't be long until the yards are bare and gray. I really have a love/hate relationship with this time of year. The trick is to stay busy but I'm having a sort of melancholy fog settle in. I will try to shake it off by doing a project or two that are in desperate need of happening.
I have what could be described as a studio. It's large enough to cover one side of a very large bedroom. Running all along the front side of our house. Right now I wouldn't let anyone in there and I have reached the point in life where I'm afraid of leaving such a horrifying mess for someone to clean up if something happens to me. See, I told you I was feeling a little sad and frankly a little creepy. I recently read about two woman I know who had a nightmare left by their mother who was a pack-rat. Again, today, I read about a woman who lost her father-same story, different coast. It involved dumpsters and a combination of angry sadness. I don't want to be that kind of burden to my family. It has also had a terrible effect on my creativity. I have no room to try any of the things I would like to in order to move ahead with some artistic things I'd like to try. Maybe that's secretly what keeps me from moving forward. It's fear related and much easier to sit and contemplate what could be. I really need to shake off the dusty thinking while I'm shaking off the accumulated junk.
The answer is sort, purge, and toss away. I have so often wanted to have a Zen life but I have been, up to now, a collector. In fact, we are all collectors here. There's a favorite song I really have loved for a long time called "Too Much Stuff", by Delbert McClinton. It's an amusing song. This is not an amusing situation. It makes me remember a quote from Fitzgerald's Great Gatsby, "and so, we beat on, boats against the current, bourne ceaselessly back in time."
I'm going in....cover me.