unpacking. or not.

i believe it is going to take the next 20 years to unpack everything. so after watching the change of two seasons, i have decided to take things a box at a time, and just spend the next several months rooting and trying to remember where things are. i am not quite embracing this new philosophy. that is to say that while my A.D.D. is loving this new idea- the obsessive compulsive side of my nature is throwing quite a tantrum. full on stomping tantrum to be precise. The shear volume of the studio itself has led to this madness (we are going to ignore the house and the attic and the garage for the moment). It is a good thing the need to create (and, let us be honest, to add coin to the coffers) outweighs the OCD and sends it sniveling to it's room. in the basement. to hide behind the furnace.

Besides... look around.

Its snowing!!

there are places to explore, things to discover and everything is so beautiful when it is topped with a bit of white. everything is more defined. clearer. quieter. 

it is a time when you whisper to the birds for fear of disturbing the silence.

live well.

love each other.

Off the Starboard Side

This is my window. The view off the starboard side, as the sun begs off to retire from this day and this place.

I am sitting back, gazing at this wonder around me, feeling more and more relaxed; at home in my surroundings, inside my own skin; once again. Finally.

I think back, on all of those years, inside my dull, square, windowless office- and I remember the sign that I had hung over my computer. It said, "At any given moment, you have the power to say- This is not how my story will end". At this very moment, I am relieved that I took those words to heart; that I had the strength and the power to believe, that I took that leap- because this is how my story begins. I am in bliss.