I have been feeling strangely quiet and filled with worries lately. And at the same time enjoying to the fullest that spring is finally here and the snow is gone. I feel like I am in such an important period of my life. Business-wise, but also personally. A feeling of “make or break”. And a deep certainty that there is so much I can do, if only I can do it, if you know what I mean? And that sometimes even though I do my best I may be blind to what is wise. Wanting to gain that wisdom and use it NOW, but knowing that is not the deal.
(Moving balance. Painting for sale by request, prints available here)
The deal here is to walk even though we can´t see the whole way ahead. To dare. To be and do. Most days, I stuggle with the doing part of life. I knock on doors. Get inspired or worn out. I waste my time and know it. And pull myself together and on track again. Then I gently knock on more doors and they may not seem to open. I forget about it and then, whilst resting or drinking tea the telephone rings with that call I expected and wanted so badly. Only, the call came from a different person/ place than I thought it would.
Here is a small tale about loving the overview-part and yet knowing that it takes getting up for action to create things:
I am sitting at the edge of a lake. A deep, deep lake. Waiting. The mirror in the lake is whispering: “Stay here forever, look how beautiful it is here. I show you all your possibilities, and here you don´t have to do, just dream.” And I so wish I could stay. But I know that everything I see as tempting and enticing here is merely a reflection of the reality that awaits me. A kind of pause, a glance at life that holds it all. A beautiful picture I am allowed to enjoy for a while, so that I may feel strengthened to trust the journey that awaits. A calm overview.
(Painting in process, a BIG one!)
But now it’s time to get up and go. Into the forrest of reality and action. Inside that forrest I can´t always see the whole context. I get blisters on my feet and loose my breath. I worry about supplies and shelter. But I walk. I move. Set my footprints on the gound. And learn again and again that only with the heart’s compass can I find the right path. And do what I’m here to do: To create and become a living expression of those very images I saw in the beautiful reflection in the lake whilst I was waiting.
(My husband came to me one late evening when I was painting, claiming that he read “The artists way” (By Julia Cameron)…and that it clearly prescribes drinking redwine together with painting after 11pm. I didn´t disagree!)
(Me, in the doorway to spring, trying to balance it all and keep going with the seasons. Some days it simply helps to wear a beautyful skirt and my favourite shoes! Celeste, 10 yrs, took this photo)