The earth is heavy
and opaque
without dreams.
Anais Nin
I woke from a heavy dream, probably induced by evening beer and call to my parents, the night prior. Not the best way to close one day and connect to the welcome of another.
The dream, heavy, full of my brother and my father, travel encumbered, and loss and anxiety; weighty.
I am still not certain what it meant; if it meant anything more than a beer-bedtime-parent-talk stew.
Regardless, I realize I am no worse the wear for it, and this noticing gives my heart buoyancy.
I am, after all, into a new year. I am, after all, reminded I get to make choices; to choose. And in this too always, set my course.
So today, brush in hand, I choose to stay here with these words on the page, giving them a connection to not just the waking dream heaviness, but more importantly this then followed on by, the buoyancy,
too.
One feeds the other. The important thing is to realize what lies there.
Lies; if you do not realize you get to choose.
Lies in the realization, that I get to choose.
So I do; choose.
To type
To paint
The lemniscate flow of their dance
not from a false joy, nor from a morose weightiness of anxiety; from both.
Color and shape, deep darks that balance the bright, small textures with hidden edges, smooth flow where light reflects.
All of it, altogether, put down and carried out, in the flow of a life lived and a life living, from the daily choice to keep listening.
in love.
trish