Oh, spring, come soon.
The words to describe how much I need spring. Right. Now. I love Montana. I love it all year long. I wish spring didn't take this long to arrive. I grew up in Nebraska. I've been in Montana since 1994. It makes sense that I should have adjusted by now. Nope. I keep saying, "spring will come," and, "it's worth the wait." Oh, and I tell myself the moisture makes for "happy farmers." That's my reminder that there's good in more snow.We've had more sunshine lately so that helps a bunch. It melts off partially. More light snow showers arrive to lightly coat everything again. As I write at mid afternoon, it's 36° F and the sun shines so brightly. I crave the sunshine. I'm eager to have the days warmer, the hours of sunlight longer, the soil ready for planting seeds in a garden.
Adding to my longing for spring, I'm preparing for change. There's good to come and yet there's sacrifice at the same time. I'll soon have to rework when and how I work in my art room. It's going to be a quiet place during the daytime hours. When the creative spark is lit in the evening hours, I would like to think I'll be drawn to this inspirational and relaxing place.
Creative energy...the artistic mind...it's a part of me.
It's been suggested that maybe I'll have to give up my art for the present time. I just can't accept that. Maybe that's what will come without my acceptance. Creative energy...the artistic mind...it's a part of me. I feel vibrantly alive when working with my brushes and palette. Sorting through watercolor tubes for a specific pigment is so familiar to me.
...in the face of letting go and embracing the new.
What do we do with change? How do we meet it? Is there a wait to greet change with hope and joy? Even if it's in the face of letting go and embracing the new. I go forward because I'm choosing to be happy anyway. What unexpected adventures are waiting for me? I don't know, but I know it will be worth watching for the surprise blessings in the journey.
I'll share more another time. For today, I'm contemplating these thoughts. I'm doing a bit of clean up in my art room. I've got some relaxing music playing. The fish tank filter bubbles away like a water fountain. The sunlight through the window blinds, creating shapes on the floor and wall, is warm and soothing. I breathe deeply...feeling like I haven't been so aware of my breathe lately. I need to breathe deeply more throughout my days. I will sweep and vacuum a bit. And then I'll glance at my art table and study that one area of the current painting that is driving me crazy. Maybe I'll have an ah-ha moment of how I'd like to tackle that hollyhock blossom. A way to move on and complete this artwork before my days adopt a different routine.
Can you relate to the ebb and flow of seasons for creativity? How do you handle the change?
Until next Thursday...or when I can find spare time to write again...
-Christy
She must make art.