Sunday, July 12, 2015

Dreaming in 18X10


It's a bunch of boards right now, interconnected gardening sheds
but in less than a year it's going to be my studio.

A separate building from our home, a few short steps away from hot coffee and 
breakfast.

An actual dream come to fruition.


I've spent the last five years making everything I've fabricated and crafted out of a second bedroom and 
century old garage… this will be an immense pleasure, 
mapping out what needs to be where and how to build out the space in such a way that 
is efficient and still beautiful.

A space where students could come, a place that looks over the golden hills of Livermore's wine country.


Even if everything falls apart with the home purchase (as I hear can happen)
I've still got dreams at the forefront of my mind and I don't see that changing,
no matter where moving falls on a timeline:

a switch has been flipped
.


I could tell you about the highs and lows of the last year,
about the city feeling so walled
about wanting to scale the pressing heights and get out 
to where I could find my breath.

The sky felt small.
I couldn't see stars,
just the pink of light pollution,
hearing the sound of freeways in my ears.

Blech.

It was tiresome to experience
such a strong desire for movement when movement felt impossible,
so I set about making our beloved cottage feel really nice
and working close to the bone in my second bedroom studio.

I set about blooming where I was planted
even though there were days where I might have felt more optimistic than others.
I explored letting life carry me
like the chariot tarot card I drew at Kelly's,
with varying degrees of surrender
as we searched for home.

In this month of transition
there's a lot of hard work ahead
physically and mentally
but I feel strong
and guided.

All of this to say:
if you've hit a wall,
pull up a chair and sit with it.
Rest in that space.
Don't exhaust yourself with scrambling,
just wait

and inhabit that waiting
until it becomes enough
in itself.

I wish I'd not have spent so much golden time attempting to scale
what wasn't ready to not be mine.

"Slow magic" as my Robin says.
Like mountains are made,
like rivers begin
from a drop
up high
.

xoxo,
Sunny





1 comment:

Cat said...

Do you know what the worse part of being on the East coast is today? Waiting to hear about your inspection is going to take FOREVERRRRRRRRRR. xoxoxox Bright light!