The blogging rhythm broken, giving me a bewildered sense of loss… I really am not overstating. It’s been months of trying to figure out what’s up. First it was the crashing, frustrating, newly installed PSE11 (not anymore, thankfully). Then it was D.’s college applications (done!). And tours (done for now!) Attention to writing. Major decluttering. Runs to Salem. Montreal. Schenectady.
And, all the while, I am sewing. Not a little. A LOT… moving pieces of fabric around, and listening to myself think. I became, this fall, weirdly resistant to being influenced. Unable, suddenly and almost violently, to partake of community that had been a place of solace and learning. I hated the isolation created by walking away, but somehow the need to preserve some quality of solitude kept winning out.
Yesterday, it occurred to me that the decluttering impulse, twinned with solitude, could very possibly be the soul at work — struggling to create the necessary conditions for integration… muscling things about so that I can make visual pieces more congruent with where I’m at, more expressive of what’s up, and with a lighter hand. Dare I wish this be so?!
I don’t know yet, but all of a sudden, this excites me. I am prepared to be ruthless to make it so. To be ruthless, so that I can become lighter. This makes me laugh and I’ll take that as a good sign!