Busy Morning

I am not sure where things will end up.  This morning I woke up to the smell of smoke filling the house.  Somewhere, a fire.  The sound of the winds was up, curling around the house and howling.  It is fire season and Santa Ana wind season in my neck of the woods.  Phone calls from SoCal Edison warning of potential power shut-offs and calls from the school district letting us know schools are closed.  I am drinking my coffee to wake up enough to figure out what to do.  Writing all this is a way to clear the fog from my morning brain to make a list of what to pack in case we are evacuated.

Confused, Hands, Up, Unsure, Perplexed, Young

Themes: A Bit Rocky

For whatever reason, the last few weeks have found me discombobulated.  Nothing seems to be consistent – pursuits and interests are all over the place.  Painting is sporadic.  Drawing is sporadic.  Photography is here and there and which camera and which film and which what and where?  We all get like this, and in some ways it can be a fallow period wherein we just flop around until something clicks.  Other times it points to ennui and aimlessness and a need to renew and refresh.  Or take a breather.

Retirement gives me time.  I want to use it.  For awhile I was on a sort of schedule – get the morning stuff done, then sit down to paint or draw in the studio, when the light is best.  And then a glimpse out the window and the pull of good weather moved those activities to the afternoon.  And the good weather pulled again.  Afternoon coffee, too, has its attractions, and that pulled me out of the house to meet up with a friend or just go out on my own.  When Josh is off work (Sunday to Tuesday) other activities occur.  Having gone from always being around people – students, fellow teachers – to being home made me realize how much I like being around people.  Suddenly I am chatting up sales clerks and yakking with strangers.  It’s bizarre, after years of being so exhausted at the end of a 10-hour teaching day and not wanting to even text someone, to find myself wanting to have guests and visit friends and family, make a phone call.

There is a restlessness here that is like a dream that you find yourself in.  There is a place to go, but you cannot find a pathway.  It’s foggy but not unpleasant.  It’s confusing and enlightening.  What it is, I think, is a need for a destination.  When I want to change something in my life, whether vague or quite specific, I set myself a goal.  For example, if I want to improve my drawing, it becomes a goal, the destination.  I leave the pathway there open and assume I will get there.  It generally works.  However, in the area of creative endeavors, I suddenly am finding myself perplexed and confused – so many things, so much I want to do, and I am running out of time for all the things I want to do!  I think of scheduling myself – but schedules are something I feel guilty about breaking once I make them.  Rather a quandary . . .

The overall theme here is just my own personality.  I am one of these people who finds something of interest, pursues it intensely, and then finds something else.  It’s rather magpie.  Glinting and flashy gets my curiosity, which in and of itself I think is fine, but it is the lack of ongoing pursuit of a particular art that gets me into trouble – the lack of consistent practice.  When I lack consistent practice, my mind and eye wander.  Trouble happens.  When my interest is piqued, I collect.  That is the magpie.  My collections are ridiculous.  They take up space.  I need to divest myself of much in my collections and divest myself of stuff.  In our younger years, we acquire – in our older years we divest and reinvest in the stable themes of our lives, whatever that may be.

So, goal?  Divestment?  Mastery?  Continuation of gaining skills?  Boredom has a bit to do with this, a lack of days structured by work schedules?  Writing, as always, helps clarify problems – but not necessarily the solutions!