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grey sky and colour

I've been doing my best to learn from a disappointing experience. The art prints I was so excited about are here, and they're alright, but they don't look anything quite like the originals. Somewhere in the scanning the colours got blown out and greyed and the print shop declared watercolours too elusive to reproduce accurately. So I have these wonky prints (maybe I could sell them for cheap?) Has anyone else had a similar experience? What worked?  We've had overcast sky for much of this past week- some days soft like grey flannel, others overbearingly bright but not sunny. The garden has been rocketing along with little assistance from us, and providing tender salads and pockets of colour where before there was dry dirt. 

My patient husband made me take a painting break today. I'm so glad he did. Taking time for myself, especially time for doing art, is something I really need to work on. It's so easy to prioritize all the never ending house and garden tasks, imagining the beautiful peace I will have when it's all done, but the hours  just keep slipping by. 

       

in a good way

Oh what a day. I have been over revving on several levels. So perhaps more coffee in the sun was not the wisest choice, but it was in keeping with current energies. At least sitting still, near the earth with nature happening around me was grounding to some degree. It was actually quite warm to be wearing a black 3/4 sleeve rabbit shirt. I bared my pale feet to the air and light. Some days - and today was one - it takes everything I have just to focus and settle. I was riled. Kind of in a good way. If my best friends were here, instead of mountains and prairies away, we could have such a time. The dandelion seeds are floating today and I am ready for adventure. Writing helps. Thoughts that had been like bumblebees in my brain are quieter on paper, or at least leave me with more space. Inside the house today, it's as if thoughts and feelings ricocheted off the walls at me, but outside, even just ten feet from the kitchen window, they diffused into the breeze and left me calm.

A squirrel ran along our rooftop this morning. I know because I watched its shadow glide along the fence. Sciurus, shadow tail, and so they are. I drove past Elk and Beaver Lakes today (neither of their namesakes live nearby) and the new leaves on the cottonwoods were almost autumnal in their fire-rosiness. Still translucent, the sunlight transformed them into soft, transpiring stained glass. Surrounded by green growth, blue lake and blue sky, and pale mountains in the distance, they were a moving sight.

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the sky in the evening

I'm on my way to bed. Hoping that one day I'll look in the mirror and the shadows under my eyes will have faded in darkness. Some days it's easy to get down. How it would bolster my comfort in the world to know what's for dinner, but at least there are endless possibilities for dinner. I need to repeat to myself that everything has a way of working out perfectly, and to remind myself that things have a way of happening better than expected. That even though I feel stuck, so much has been happening, and so much good unfolding. Here is what I've noticed lately.

Pink and blue clouds of the crepuscular sky reflected calico on the smooth water near the shore.

Sliver of a crescent moon in the sky, earthshine moon behind. Twice reflected sunlight or moonglow mist. Venus brighter than the moon and hovering below its lapel. Not a star, belied by its steady gaze. Stellar scintillation happening overhead though, a tiny twinkling to the left.

Clutches of crows lifting off rooftops like smoke or dandelion seeds against blue sky, white clouds like ridges in sandbars.

Yesterday we returned to the lagoon and on the beach in front of where we pulled up a stately and elegant swan stood at the water's edge, facing us. It stayed still for some time, towering over the ducks which surrounded it like cygnets around a protector. Yesterday also, I wore a summer dress and J dug our yard into a garden.

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