“Do you know," Peter asked, "why swallows build in the eaves of houses? It is to listen to the stories.” ~ J.M. Barrie, Peter Pan


a blank canvas & an idea

Blank canvases.

I have spent this summer, indeed so much of this year, looking backward in order to look forward, paying less attention to looking here right now. It has been one of those times - change is in the air; I read it on every blog I visit, all of us antsy for something new, something more, something different, but not quite sure how to get there from here, sometimes not sure why. I have spent months gazing at my own lovely navel, contemplating myself, paying attention to me, me, me, exploring how-did-I-get-here-and-now-what, and I don't apologize for that - there is more to come, but it will be less introspective, surely more fun, more entertaining - but this journey was needed, was necessary, continues to be necessary. But today, this first day after 8 weeks of Unravelling, I feel a bit free to look around at the now surrounding me, feeling a little lost also, a bit like graduating from high school, excited but scared, knowing I have some time to play, but also knowing Life is waiting for me out there, hoping to keep play a part of that life.

But again, today. It feels restful to not think about me right now, to just notice those orange flowers that grow outside the building at work and not feel the need to take their picture. It feels just fine to sit here in this messy, messy living room with Maggie, the summer heat back again today, the front door open enough to let it mix with the air conditioning inside, the tv on with no sound - as usual. It felt okay last night to sit here and work through another hour of my online defensive driving course (yes, yes, a speeding ticket earlier this summer); it felt perfectly fine and calm. Tomorrow I must fill out forms to enter 3 paintings in an art show - we will see how that goes; I have my doubts about my luck. The show is about East Texas, and though my work is definitely about East Texas in that it is about how I feel here, what I think here, there are no roses or bluebonnets, and . . . well, like I said, we will see. There are storms, and I will enter paintings of storms, and it will be what it be.

I awoke the other night with the vision of a painting in my head, turned on the bedside lamp, sketched it in the notebook I keep there, and went back to sleep. That hasn't happened in a while, and it feels good to know my muse is still with me. I may not paint it soon, but I know how it begins.

With a blank canvas.
With an idea.
With faith.
with trust in possibilities


  1. You're photos will be unique from the others and that will be a winning factor!

  2. both kath and i are unravelling our own lives in a way. we are giving up our houses, moving to smaller digs, looking for ways to spend more time with our spouses and family, more time to be creative and satisfy an underlying urge to be someone different, a photographer, a writer, a sister. it is that time of year.

  3. Well, you said it ALL. I've been in a storm for quite some time and am ready for something more. So glad there aren't any roses in the painting!

  4. I will wait patiently, to see what happens with your paintings. Fingers crossed.

    You too? A dream called me as well, woke me straight out of my sleep. Had to write it down... Nice.

  5. Rest, that sounds good. I love this post, so calming to read.

  6. I love when the muse whispers to me in dreams - it is when I'm most open to all her hopes...

    Can't wait to see what your blank canvas will hold.



  7. Yes, as I'm sure you already know, I am there too. That oh-so-awkward, oh-so-necessary growing stage. Funny thing is, it feels like that is all I have been doing for years now... growing, but never entirely breaking free of my cocoon. I'm hoping that means there will be something truly great and beautiful on the other side of all that for me, as I know there is for you. I'm so glad your muse is back. =)

  8. it is what it is...to paint or not to paint.
    to admire..or not..
    to just sit and look...or not look at all..
    life is just what it is.
    no strings, nothing else.
    it just is...
    a blank canvas xx

  9. Your muse comes in the night, in dreams. Mine comes in the shower.

    SHEESH!! Yours is far more romantic to write down.


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