Still Life with Painting and Coffee Jar Caterpillar Habitat (with unhatched and possibly dead moth cocoon)
Do you ever feel as if you are busy working on things, spinning them around in your head or futzing with little bits of this and that... and yet nothing really comes of it? I don't really have a final painting or sculpture or anything to show, just bits and pieces and sketches. My novel has been languishing, although I think I've stumbled upon a solution for the problem of the slow first chapter. And it's taking me forever to update all of the things in my etsy shop, still waiting for my printer to be delivered. There's never any time for anything to be finished sometimes. And I worry that none of it will ever get to where I want it to go.
I swear it was a coincidence that I chose this picture with the unhatched cocoon. The poor caterpillar that worked so hard, spun his cocoon and kind of, well, dried up inside of it. My laptop is out of batteries right now, and I don't have very many new pictures on my memory key. I always liked the way this photo turned out, with the rough green table and the red plastic top and the warm tint the light gives the painting, although I never intended to pick it today. And truthfully, I don't really feel like a dried up caterpillar, although my worries may make me anxious about results.
Life is full of coincidences and synchronicities, isn't it? Like yesterday, when I was sitting in a cafe, without children, having a coffee and reading Jane Austen, feeling all of a sudden anxious, as if I should be doing something, as if I had forgotten something. I looked up and right past my window drove a truck, with the words "Ride the Wave" splashed across the side.
I swear. Ride The Wave. I even have a label on my blog for that very phrase.
So here I am, in flux, as things change, jobs and houses, schedules and child care, budgets and activities, creativity and etsy shops, novels, correspondence, relationships. All of it. Constant activity but few final results.
What can I do but keep going? Little project by little project. Plans. Schedules.
I have to make sure, in the wildness, not to forget some of those things that have been put off to the side for a while. I have to make sure that I keep my eye on where I want to go in the motion of this wave. Just keep swimming, I guess.
I suppose in reality it is an illusion when we think things are settled. They are actually always in flux. We develop routines and expectations, but even within those things, there is always change.
I like to think that when things settle down, I will be able to build some time into my day to finish my novel and maintain my shop... but will things ever be perfect?
No more perfect than this very day, and this very moment.
The only moment there is.
What is there for you in this moment, right here right now? What gift have you to give? What gift have you to receive?