So the weather is wacky and a bit wild. That’s not a shock- it’s spring. By the very nature that it is spring, the world is a wild work of nature. I find more and more that I am enchanted with the miracle that IS spring. The earth is dead and sad. But wait, there is the whisper of hope. There is the promise of renewal. Buds are tiny specs on the tress and then two days later, BAM they are leaves. It’s crazy. It’s unreasonable. It is tenacious.
I have been fairly non functional for the past few days. A migraine. I thought it was the weather, but maybe not.
Each time I fight a migraine for multiple days I find that coming out of it is almost like spring. I felt nearly dead then suddenly the synapses in my brain are going nearly mad! Today feels like each idea is bouncing into the next idea like an out of control pin ball machine. I KNOW what this looks like, I was a dutiful girlfriend and would watch my then boyfriend (now husband) play for what seemed like hours at the local pizza parlor. I didn’t like it much then and now it seems overwhelming.
I get overwhelmed when this happens. Ideas are popping in my brain and feel brilliant at the time, but who really knows. Today I started to take a proactive approach. I acted on some ideas, I wrote others down. Still others I put aside to review later.
and then I painted. I didn’t have any expectations about WHAT I painted, I just painted.
and it was good.
now I still have the migraine, but I took a moment. a moment for me. I shoveled all that over thinking into a three ring binder to be later reviewed and I painted.
NOW I am going to bed. I am hoping between these two moments of self care- I will feel better. Then I can try to do something about the idea factory. Those ideas are just like those buds in spring, peaking through the winter. I am looking forward to the flowers that will bloom.
- I can be peace, hope, and love
- Irondequoit Art Trail