Wondering what compels some people to publicly record some things that make them look like creeps. No filters I guess. They're not concerned about others' impressions. I'm not either, but I know what looks creepy and sketchy when I see it.
Holiday season has kicked in - making gifts to be given as gratitude. Purchasing or bartering for items that friends make, to be given as gifts to others. This takes time, and it is wonderful to reconnect with my hand-making community.
Writing pieces here and there. It can be exhausting when the material has to be produced on demand and squeezed out, and exhilarating when it flows unleashed on its own. Dialogs, scenes, and vignettes are narrated in 30 second sound bites when they arise. I think that I'll remember them long enough to write them down, but the writing is slow and the images and conversations flow through memory too quickly, and much is lost. How does one capture dance movement, cinematic images, and sound in words quickly enough to really, really record them?
There is movement again with changes that will occur. "I'm going with the flow," I say. "I'm keeping an eye on it," another says. "I'm still staying away," the passive one says. "Don't freak out," I whisper to myself.
The signs reappear elsewhere and the ensuing events will be predictable. Time to sit back and watch the show. It'll be a rerun with one character who keeps running along and another who gets served up by the next revolving door.
Regaining rhythm several days after a predawn view of the moon through a kitchen window then the late night view through an airplane window, when I took my crayon and placed a familiar window around it so that I would land home.
What of those who hang on?
Leave them alone; no need to regard them; do not allow their presence to weigh on you.
But they take, they imitate, they feed.
Only because they have no resources of their own - they are dependent on you and others; make your own way and you will always have enough.
I've always appreciated the place I consider "home": the positive aspects of climate, culture, and attitude. Yet when I visit another place where in the process of "digging deep" I find aspects that call to me and that fill me in ways that I did not know could be filled, the return to "home" requires time. The adjustment during this time is filled with reviewing notes, photos, and reflecting on impressions and thoughts that linger. It's the absorption of the new experience into myself. It is also a revelation that "home" is dynamic and evolves. The place I started from is not the place I return to. I'm ok with that.
Re-entry is difficult, a friend says. Each conversion with a friend is part of the transition and re-entry.