The full moon fell onto the dining room table where hours earlier I had been re-oiling some small sculptures.
As I walked past dreamily in the wee hours before first dawn, a moment of peace overwhelmed my tender and suffering soul and I had to sit down to take in the pleasure of this felt contentment; of this pure happiness.
Happiness from the root “hap” to be present with what is happening despite any and all difficulties.
During the week the ongoing chaos of three major projects — each with their ongoing difficulties — would exhaust my creative self and lead me to question why it was I felt compelled to manifest these rather large, possibly unnecessary big visions.
The garden enclosure was beginning to look more like an industrialized garage for parked galvanized dirt filled tubs than for anything growing except for some garlic.
The tennis court was already into its third month of construction and into its third attempt at leveling due to seepage problems and inadvertently buried root balls that had to be dug up.
And in the studio, the sculpture started half a year ago in April, was far from completed and proving a technical challenge to carve.
And yet, and yet. There are those moments when gratitude floats down around my soul and the zest for the artist’s life boots up again.
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