the world outside is taking a breath, and i with it. july is here, and brought with her a weekend of rain when she opened the door, this summer so unlike last summer, cooler, wetter, greener. this morning we are all sunshine, a sunshine that is a color yet unnamed - bright, lighting up the house, begging to be partaken of.
some once-again amazing sunshine out there. thanksgiving in july. gratitudes. big swooshes of movement. walls to be painted, canvases also, moving me through the remaining days of summer. i have neglected my camera this year and maybe there will be pictures. typing tightens my shoulder and i have stayed away from long bits of it, nodding to this sign from the universe. time to get my hands dirty and my brain emptied of thoughts, painting always my meditation. my shoulder needs a bigger space than i've been giving it. time to get physical.
friday, july 13:
by noon the emma tree was down.
by 12:15 the places on the wall scraped bare by her limbs were sanded and painted.
by 12:30 she was propped against a different wall in a back room.
i thought it would make me sad, but no. it made me smile. it made her smile. i'd forgotten all the bruises and broken limbs she'd suffered these last few years, forgotten how she was held together in places with wire and ribbons. no more. the broken parts are gone and she is resting, healing, waiting for me to find her next home.
it's been in my mind a while, to help her down from that tiresome spot, but others said no, she should stay, and so i left her, but i ignored her. when a bulb burned out, it stayed burned out. not on purpose, but it stayed dark. that corner of the front room . . . well, it seemed neglected. sad.
so i will start there first.
the yellow-once-vibrant blue walls will change again.
a canvas as big as a room.