With family, work, art and performances taking up so much bandwidth, I finally have some time with “nothing much going on.” Which has it’s own challenges, to be sure. We humans like to be busy, or do we like to be lazy but are forced to be busy? Not sure if this drive is intrinsic in our DNA or if it is the result of some Christian work ethic (what is the source of the seven deadly sins, after all?) but it is the twin poles of an ongoing existential dilemma for me. Quiet times open the door for introspection, which opens the door for melancholy, which opens the door for depression. But the other side of that coin is overwork, over stress, tension, anxiety…and a desire to break free of all responsibility. So where is the middle ground? I have been trying hard to be at peace with the “in between” times, the silence, the quiet, the time of not much happening. Maybe there is some Buddhist tome that would explain it all to me. Maybe it’s just the burden of having a brain that never turns off, even when it is at rest. For now, I’ll just try to BE. Enjoy the silence.
2022: 47 Winding Down
The last, waning days of autumn are very soon going to surrender to winter. The chill in the air has now evolved into true, bracing coldness. The time for quiet reflection is now upon me. Thus, I will take some time away from these pages and turn inwards. Silence can speak volumes.
2020: 11 (Social Distancing)
Hunkering down. Cocooning. Avoiding people. Staying home. Stocking up. Slowing down. Baking. Cooking. Simmering. Reading. Watching. Holding. Spooning. Sleeping. Thinking. Talking. Writing. Shooting. Binding. Printing. Planning. Observing. Waiting. Hoping. Hoping. Hoping. Looking for the good place, even when things seem like the bad place. Washing hands. Avoiding germs. Breathing. Hiking. Walking. Listening. Not reading the news. Not going on Facebook. Not panicking. Not freaking the fuck out.