I find myself in a strange place these days.
The home improvement projects are completed. There were two solid months of work, painting, peeling and scraping. We are finished and home is fresh and new.
There is no back-to-school shopping or preparation. Jacob graduated college and while he lives at home as he searches for a job, he is independent. He does not need me, not nearly so often or so deeply.
My mother is stable. After the trauma of the hip fracture in January with two surgeries for repair, she has arrived at a new status quo. She can stand to transfer to a chair or bed or the toilet, but she no longer walks. She seems content mostly.
I find myself unsettled, as though waiting for the next shoe to drop. I am at loose ends.
One of the best remedies for this kind of anxiety is, at least for me, action. I’m not referring to filling my days to overflowing or busyness, not a new project, not shopping or eating or binge watching television. I find comfort in the simple routines of every day.
I feel the need to make art even when I feel vulnerable and broken – and often these photographs bring tears to my eyes – because the beauty so overwhelms me.
A few thoughts from my friend Rebecca on art and brokenness -
We construct the adult we want to be to protect the child we are inside, but it is often that very adult in us who judges and criticizes, who overthinks, rationalizes and creates fear. This is what needs to be subdued for the inner child to have the courage to bring the art to life.
It takes courage not only to make art, but to let it in.