Since I’m not yet mobile and can only walk a few feet on my own, my creative window is small. The challenge is for me to capture my work in as creative a world as possible.
I thought this would be a smaller affair than it is. I’m adapting.
The thing about being in recovery is that your world shrinks, and I can either shrink with it or rise to it. Everything is a chance to learn, an opportunity to grow.
When one is healing, the world gets small, but that doesn’t mean it can’t be beautiful; everything is beautiful if I can open my eyes and see it. Some of the images of my world will be in color, some black, and white.
The first two images I see are windowsill gallery displays, the curator being Maria. Everything she touches and imagines is beautiful.
The nurse from the podiatric surgeon’s office called yesterday, and we went over her recovery checklist. Every one of them was positive – no fever, no bleeding, no infectious lines, no pain.
Good work, she said. We’ll see you on Monday.
I’ve also got four images with my Leica; it captures moods very well.
I am called to attention when I read your work. You have such a reverence for your singular, particular, bountiful and blessed life, that it points me back to my own. I think of you and Maria as people in my “virtual” creative tribe, who remind me that life is messy, complicated and gorgeous. That writers and artists must work with the raw material. That opportunities to love and serve are everywhere. That we are here to learn and grow, not stagnate. And also, that while living on a farm looks like fun, it is a ton of work, and I am better off being allowed a window into your world, rather than selling everything and moving with my husband to upstate New York. Thank you for all the value your creative artistry has added to my days.
Thanks for coming along, Kathy…thoughtful message..