I wake from a dream in which I had returned to work in a similar role as one I was once very proficient in. I was, shall we say, less so in the dream and in my early wakefulness ponder what I remember and what’s lost to me about the technical aspect of my former
As I’ve been pondering blogging, what it once was, and what I imagine it returning to now, I remembered The Simple Woman’s Daybook. Months ago, when I was really struggling, I began listing things in my journal that I saw, smelled, tasted, heard, and felt as a grounding practice. It sounds simple, but it helped.
My granddaughter and I dabble with watercolor in my woman cave. It’s her first experience with the medium and, as a creative, she enjoys every new step. Mixing paint. Washing it onto wet paper and watching it bleed. Pulling tape off the edges of a finished painting. All deemed, in her words, “satisfying.” She hands
When I decided to start playing with watercolour I was overwhelmed by choice. Paints, palettes, paper, brushes. I researched and studied and made decisions that were right for me—all the while washing paint on wet paper and being fascinated by the process. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to paint. Loose flowers, more true-to-life botanicals,
Gerry and I have been playing chess regularly for over a year. When we first started, I made foolish moves and didn’t think ahead. It was a given that he’d capture my king but I was determined to improve so I persevered. Loss after loss. Angst upon angst. Until, one day, I won! I let
I’m at the park, kneeling at my tripod and looking through the viewfinder at some flowers I don’t know the name of. What someone somewhere called them in the past doesn’t matter. They’re growing here today and I’m appreciating their unique beauty and attempting to capture a reasonable digital representation. Sometimes I catch glimmers of
The sun is shining and birds are singing. It’s early, but wise ones have already come to walk in this park. Some are in pairs, many more walk in solitude. They are taking good care of both their physical and mental selves. Me, I sit in my car. I’m waiting to pick Maya up from