The start of Summer always brings with it a lethargy for work; my time is gravitating to the porch, the John Deere and a walk around to the flowers struggling to bloom through this drought.
I am, as well, in a creative drought. Things have gone dormant for the moment. I am in slow motion in the studio, if moving at all.
I wait for some spark to ignite ideas, but the most I manage is the putting together of pages in an old book, to make an art journal. Repetitive work, and mindless, it is good for times like these.
This Summer is more complex, and I wait for real life issues to get resolved. I am still ill with the remnants of a cold that seems to want to last forever and have phone calls to make today, possibly with the result of more waiting.
I feel like the Turks Cap Lily, one petal open and trying to get back to full bloom.
Patience has never been my strong point and complete rest and downtime are foreign to me, but I have become somewhat friendly with them. (through necessity only....)
I wait.
Life is slowed to an endless stream of days, all pretty much the same and tiring. This was, of course, NOT what I had planned.
But in the course of my life, I have learned that what *I* plan and the Divine Plan frequently are quite different.
Slow times are a time to gather strength, even when I haven't enough sense to do it myself.
I wait.
And like that little lily blossom, I know at some point I will be full and glowing again.
In the meantime, I may be blog scarce, and I beg your indulgence.
Sometimes the quiet thrust upon us is exactly what we need.
Even when we think it isn't.
Pax....
