Saturday afternoon - blessed to be living in some place other than the desert today- although I miss the smell of the creosote after a rain like nothing else. But Summer is here and I am thankful to be higher in the hills, where walks can be taken, friends can gather outdoors for beer and dogs, and simple things like mail gotten, are a joy, without that sun-beating heat I left behind in Tucson.
Starting a blog is so hard. Like a blank canvas, it sits bright, staring back at me for words of wonder, not tales of an ordinary day. But this can't be a job for me, and I must be able to write about ordinary things like a Saturday afternoon...an ordinary Saturday afternoon, without judgment or thoughts of 'not enough'... I have a friend who is an artist. She always starts on a black canvas - black, never white - says that way she has begun as soon as brushes are gathered - painter's block broken in a way I need this writer's block to set me free now.
Been too long, far too long since I wrote anything of any meaning, anything of me. I am hoping it is like the wind through the trees - that words will meander from me, to this place, without much contemplation, or self awareness.
So that is the beginning... as we leave to go visit friends, I managed five minutes for me.
Just five minutes... at least five minutes...
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