...and so am I... at last!
I have wanted to write a post for ages but I've kept on stalling... I haven't known what to say... I've started a few lines in my notebook and then given up, and then suddenly a week's gone by and it all happens again.
The truth is, I haven't felt like I've anything terribly interesting to say. There's been more 'life' than 'creativity' going on here - and that's been the case for quite a while. I've decided to bite the bullet and write something anyway, just to mark the passing of time, because I want to be truthful with myself, and in the end this blog is for me, to read when I'm old, and what I'm feeling and experiencing at the moment is just as valid and as much a part of the story as the busy, successful times.
I haven't done any art for a while, nor any kind of expression other than the intense giving out that life seems to be demanding of me at the moment. So, I am 'inhaling'... taking in... absorbing... and trusting that the 'exhaling', the expression, the creation of something other than life and relationships, will come.
Maybe the new season will bring other newness with it. I hope so. Autumn is here now, I know this because as well as the rose hips and ivy berries and darker evenings and chilly air, there was a huge skein of geese in the sky this morning, very high up and distantly honking, making their way to Norfolk and the Wash to feed on the mudflats over the winter. We are right underneath one of their flight paths here in south Manchester and every autumn is marked by their passing from west to east. In springtime, back they go westwards, to Iceland or Greenland to breed over the summer months. I love hearing them and rush to the window when I hear the sound of them passing over to catch sight of their strung-out 'v' shapes making their way across the sky.
East to west, west to east... the miracle of time passing. My 'baby' granddaughter will soon be starting school, and neither of my children are teenagers anymore. This feels incredible, but there is something familiar and comforting about the journey of the geese that somehow makes it all ok. Good and wonderful things happen in amongst the terrible and frightening things, and there's a sort of rhythm and form to it all that I didn't notice when I was younger and saw it as a single, linear journey. It's not that at all, is it? Not a bit.
I'm doing a lot of reading. A lot of sleeping, a lot of thinking and praying and eating cake and back in August I did a lot of cleaning. Hopefully I'll be doing a bit more writing and taking photos and getting back into more of a conversation with life very soon.
14 comments:
What a lovely post - I think that many of us can empathise with you and agree with what you say - I certainly can. Your mention of geese reminds me of the cranes which used to fly over where we lived in the Haute Vienne each year going one way in the spring and returning in the autumn. I love that such things go on no matter what is happening in our own lives and the miracles of Nature are still just the same as they always were and hopefully always will be. I think you have a wonderful way of expressing what many of us feel. Just post what is true for you and the rest will follow.
It's lovely to hear from you again.
Nature carries on, doesn't it no matter what else comes and goes!
Vivienne x
Sue, I am glad to see this post.
It's sometimes difficult to admit that there 24 hours in a day, and that many daily needs in our lives can account for many of those numbered hours.
Still, isn't it good that the creative mind never really sleeps (I think of Neil Young telling us that Rust Never Sleeps!)
There is part of our minds that always acts as a harbor, ready to help some artistic notion find the shore in safety. I know what talent you have, and what a unique way of expressing yourself.
As summer leaves us, I am welcoming the now slightly cooler temperature, as it gives me a bit more energy. Wondering how autumn might encourage some new directions or nurture some fledgling ideas already in a delicate motion.
Sue, how I would love to meet you for a cup of tea!
xo
what a treat to witness those geese, back and forth. it sounds like you're moving to your own rhythm too.
It's so nice to see a new post from you. However mundane on the outside, life is rich on the inside, and you express your reflections so poetically and wisely and personally. Thank you!
Your faithful reader,
Bea
Lovely post Sue I think we all feel like you do at times, somehow life gets in the way and has a habit of taking over and stopping all those activities that make us feel content in our hearts. Glad you found time to write down your words it reminds us all that at the end of the internet wires we are all ordinary people just making our way through this wonderful world as best we can and sometimes it's a bit tricky. Look froward to seeing more of you and your gorgeous photos and art. x
So pleased to see you here again! And autumn can be a lovely time. X
Thank you Bea :-)
Thanks Sue, that's nicely put :-)
I am a great believer in the value of fallow time in a creative sense - time when for whatever reason we aren't feeling or being as creatively productive as at other times. Somehow a lot more goes on under the surface than we realise and in due course renewed creativity bursts out again fuelled and secretly nourished by a time in which we thought nothing was happening. So for what it's worth I'd say have confidence in thie activities that feel are right for now and wait for creativeity to reemerge. You might even find it takes off in a new direction that without a break it wouldn't have. E x
Thank you Elizabeth, what a lovely comment. I hope you are right :-)
Dear Sue, this post made me realise that I missed you more than I thought! Your quiet voice and wise words always let me stop for a while, read slowly and "réflechir"... You say that there was nothing special in your life to write about, to share... But I believe that there were many moments that you made special for your family, as well as such that brought joy, delight and happiness to your heart!
East and West, coming and leaving, here and there... Our children grow up so quickly and there comes the moment to choose their own direction and follow their path. My son is 18 years old now, so you can imagine how I'm feeling, how my heart sinks...
I'll be really happy if you come here from time to time! If it's possible earlier than the geese return, please...:0))))))
So lovely to see your new post - you have been seriously missed - no pressure!
I hope to see more posts from you too - I did enjoy this one.
Pomona x
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