writing from 7/23/2012
This morning’s sun is fierce, blotting out images.
Too much light?
Today I want to run from this place I couldn’t wait to get to —
The good excuses begin to fly through my head, inviting me to catch one and —
I am out of cream.
Black coffee and flies on the front steps.
Stella seems sluggish. She could be infected. Or poisoned.
I’ve had enough alone time. Solitude is not what I need now.
The unidentified huge flying things and their carcasses that fell on my head yesterday.
The heat. The wasp by the front door.
I miss my weekend visitors and the company that usually fills this place.
I don’t feel well.
My heart is beating that restless beat —
And yet —
I asked for this. Yes I did.
Leading here from a place I left 24 months ago, I asked for:
Discernment, courage, trust, and now —
Despite what the existence of a 20-year-old creative portfolio might say about me, the truth is:
I’ve not been good at staying with or holding tension in my life.
I often resolve it by leaving. Or reacting in some way to resolve it.
But seldom do I allow it to play through the deep waters of my commitment.
This week is about —
The photo above was sent to an insect specialist to identify by my friend. What you see clinging to the bark of this grand old tree is the ectoskeleton of one of thousands of cicadas that molted here right before I arrived and now randomly blast me with song and their creepy dead crypts. I’m sure I’ll have more to say about them later!