It seems appropriate that this palette would start to give out tonight before I get ready to hang my show in Bennington. It’s worked hard, helping produce over thirty pieces – some of which have gone to new homes.
Tonight starts a new one, and i’m feeling ready for a change of subject or style. There’ll be at least one more visit back to my favorite spot, but I look at winter as a time for seeds and skills to be nurtured under blankets of snow and soil. It’s time to start growing the next season.
There a few scenes I come back to over and over again. This spot with the white birches near the Equinox mountain is different every day, and yet it has the same effect. The mountain and clouds, the white trucks and the blowing leaves are better than oxycodone. They are hallucinogens, they are the moments I go back to when sorting out real life becomes exhausting.
We got home from the Hospital on Tuesday evening. I went to the pharmacy and hit a deer on the way down. No humans were injured, but the dinged up car looked like a belated omen initially. But I had misread the omen.
Thing2 was with me and, it initially thinking that the deer had been killed, burst into tears. I pulled over and started to cry too. Then, Not wanting to leave the scene with a deer possibly lying in the middle of a busy dark road, I dialed the state troopers And made a U-turn to see if I could see an injured animal and or next to the road. The trooper came and took my report, helping me find pieces of my car, and he and we looked for signs of the animal.
Thing2 was the first to point out the eyes staring at us from the field that run along next to the road. My first thought was that the animals hurt, but the eyes moved as if the deer had jumped, and we realized that it was in better shape than my car.
We got to the pharmacy, got groceries and a few things to help Thing1 get settled at home sans his colon. We were both relieved that nothing had been killed, but I couldn’t shake the feeling of something hanging over me.
Thing1 has been home for a few days now. He’s adjusting, And I am catching up on sleep deficit. I’m hardly written word since we’ve been home, but happen painting and every free minute. I’m relieved that all has gone well (the next surgery should be much easier), but the angst that’s been with me for the last two and a half years still hangs. Paint seems to be the only thing to make it go away.
Then today as I got ready to run some errands, Thing2 emerged from the downstairs bedroom where he’ll stay until he’s fully recovered. he was up early today than yesterday, and earlier yesterday and the day before. Today was able to make his own breakfast and think about what he wanted for lunch. He was, and a small way beginning to reclaim some of his independence.
It wasn’t until I was back from my errands, meditating on a painting of our road that I realized that the funny feeling I can’t put my finger on is relief. there still a bit of fear affecting my aim, fear but things could backtrack. for now, though, it’s enough to be able to meditate on canvas and, even if I can’t put my finger on it, meditate as the anxiety begins to melt away.
