Tomorrow, I must get back on track of writing in the mornings. My thoughts are clearer and the energy flow feels more alive when I make it here before the minutia shades the day.
Today, I woke with a headache. It's the rain and the rain and the rain. I am grateful that we are not in drought but the rain, the rain, and the rain is really getting me down. Today was a day of looking for houses. It is time for a change, a new beginning, and we are moving closer to where I grew up. I am seeking connection and community. This also means that I am being uprooted from the home where I raised my children, from my home for over twenty years. I feel pulled up already and my roots are exposed. It feels raw.
We found a house that we love. I can see us living there, creating a home, putting down roots. It feels near to perfect. Now comes the waiting, the hoping, the filling in the blanks, and waiting some more. I am leaning in to holding this process loosely. Knowing that I can trust that my home is calling to me. It may be this one. It may not be. If it is not then that only means that my home is waiting for me to find her. Trust, dear Cynthia, trust.
It took me well into the evening before I started feeling better. When I did, I went to my easel. I journal with paint in a Canson XL Mixed Media paper pad ( 18 x 24). After scribbling thoughts and feelings onto the paper, I choose some colors and let the painting lead me. Today, I painted with the intention of embracing expansion, of believing in possibility and magic, of trusting that all is working out for my good.
This is how I begin and create most of my paintings. It is an intuitive journey of discovery. I rarely go to the easel with a plan for what I will paint. I am seeking to express a feeling, an intention, a healing energy. I sketch with the a paint. It is a learning process of sacred messes and mistakes. I bow to the process.