Change. What it really means.

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?

I'd love to hear your suggestions for working art time into your extra moments.

Until next Thursday...or when I can find spare time to write again...

-Christy

She must make art.