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found, treasured.

4 June 2014

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Image

There is a badly constructed gate in great need of reinvention that was erected to keep the free-spirited chickens from invading the vegetable garden, although this year I am not really vegetable gardening as I am concentrating on my perennials and permanents and assorted etceteras. Keeping the cats away from the beds would be a great idea too but I have long given up on that notion, so they generally jump atop one of the side posts or sometimes crawl under the gate, they sleep in the hay that lives on the vegetable side but they are fed on the chicken side and they like to wait around there for my daily arrivals. If I am crossing the divide and a cat is following me, my instinct is always to politely hold the gate open, but they almost never seize the opportunity. They mostly wait till the gate resumes its usual closed position and cross it athletically as usual.

I have been pondering on that one long enough that I have recognized the same behaviour in me, There would have been a time that if I had brazen myself for a tough ride I would be suspicious of an unexpected helping hand and would have rather struggled on in my familiar way. I no longer am that person I think and yet I have witnessed times that I would have been set—too rigidly—on what I thought I needed/wanted to actually see that what had been thrown towards me was for me, was my own homely miracle, the embodiment of my intention in a material form that was totally unexpected.

So the aim is to keep my eyes on a broader target, open-minded open-eared and confident, and allow for days when it is all blurred and perhaps I am all blurred too as perhaps these are the days I am allowing myself to grow into me.

What did I find, sculptural shapes, not a lot of time to write, that fencing progresses slowly but that I will get there eventually, that I’m not sure I want an art career but that most of the things I make I would easily categorize as art—even the way I brought up my children I’d say—and that it suits me, that I am aiming to be a good Homeopath, and that I love the fact that I planted trees all those years ago and that I find them so big and tall, so big and tall, from pretty small seeds, just like you or I. Such miracle.

4 Comments leave one →
  1. 5 June 2014 9:45 pm

    A lovely post Maison D. I felt and understand a bit of your life here in New Hampshire. Your cats and the self-chosen artful way you’ve raised your kids. Art as life, life as art. May your cats, kids, art, life, and dreams go just like the winds, naturally.

    • 6 June 2014 8:11 am

      Thank you ! I wrote that and then I read Gene Logsdon’s last post who was tapping a similar beat. You sometimes feel you are alone with your earthworms, your weeding and your ditch to clear but you’re never alone truth be told.

      • 9 June 2014 3:06 pm

        ’tis wonderful that we are never alone. Being with the “assorted etceteras” in all its forms can indeed yield miracles. Inspiring stuff, thank you

      • 9 June 2014 7:45 pm

        you are most welcome !

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