Sunday, yesterday, most of the day to myself, spent productively puttering in the (still new to me)
Sunday, yesterday, most of the day to myself, spent productively puttering in the (still new to me) house. Faced some boxes from the move I’d been consciously avoiding only to have my effort rewarded with two brand-spanking (which I would love right now) new heavy-paper mixed media notebooks, pieces of watercolor paintings I’d cut up to use in other artworks, a smattering of ephemera from 2002'ish, and the entire collection of letters (in e-mail) between myself and a man I call “Crowbar”; knowing him helped me find the door out of my marriage to wasband. The timing is funny. Historically, he pings me on Valentine’s Day, Christmas, Thanksgiving, and my birthday, which is tomorrow, 10/21. Only and ever via e-mail, never by telephone; I don’t have his number any more but if I really desired to hear him I could call his workplace and ask for his office. Happily, he would take the call as any old friend would. However, sometime earlier this year (or was it late last? I honestly do not remember.) I shared that I was in something that felt like it could be an interesting, fun partnership/coupling; it was not “aloha” or ‘I’ll see you when I return’. It was good-bye, without those actual words. We bolstered each other in written and emotional ways for about 10 years, thinning considerably the last year. I will not hear from Crowbar tomorrow and would be surprised if he makes a virtual appearance. Back to the box contents. The thick-paper sketch books. One will be used to house the pages of an old cookbook I’m using for individual small abstract paintings. My goal is to use as many cookbook pages as I can and create a new work on ome side of every printed page. The finished are hanging on a large cork board in my studio but they will last longer in a protected space, like a book. The other is for doodling or Zentangling, which is why I am drawn (yes, a pun of sorts) to this image, above. Meditative, repetitive drawing to clear the mind and focus on the present moment. Something lovely from the casual mess of my head. Happy last day of the old year. A year ago, Master was here in New York, having rendered me speechless with a surprise visit *and* a surprise party, planned for months at the distance that separates us, with my friends (and family) he’d never met. He went to great lengths to make it good, and it was perfect. This evening, we shall celebrate over the phone. Open another box from the move today–there are only a few unknowns left in the garage–and later, the box from Master, for my birthday. Life is full of beautiful surprises, even from the end of your pen. -Agent 355 (aka SmartSurrender, but I’ve changed how I feel about that, so I’m not using it for now. The re-naming is my birthday gift to myself: identity.) -- source link