A young woman emerged from the house across the street, ipod in hand, and started jogging briskly downhill. Several crows immediately began taking turns dive-bombing her, swooping up to fly over her head just in the time to avoid collision. The poor girl covered her head with her arms and quickened her pace out of their territory while the crows continued cawing long after she had gone. Testy. Maybe they are guarding a nearby nest. However, they did not dive-bomb the two men walking large dogs–perhaps the dogs frightened them off.
The door opened again, and our neighbor’s son and his wife came out and sat on the front doorstep. “A bunny!” she said, and pointed near C.’s car in the carport. The brown rabbit loped into view as I craned my neck around.
Other than the crows and the trains, I had a very quiet knit. The solitude was welcome after my busy day yesterday at the Garden Spot Nursery painting hearts, butterflies, elephants, fishes, and flowers on kids’ faces (and some adults too.) My interior life has grown quiet with the fullness of this past week…But it’s been exhilarating to plunge in with my sleeves rolled up, giving my all.
This week, I also submitted my idea for an installation in the courtyard of the Lightcatcher Museum. My stomach churned as I turned it in, I was so excited and nervous about it.
Next week, I start teaching Beginning Drawing up at the university, hoping to tuck in my hour of knitting before classes start at 10:00 am. I’ve been thinking about artists as connection makers…How do I impart this to my students? It’s easy to teach techniques, and these are undoubtedly important for building a knowledge base. It is a much more mysterious how to nurture the attitudes, the conviction, and the practices that will help sustain them over the long haul. Perhaps we discover these for ourselves? Or learn them by osmosis…
E. told me as I put the hose reel away, “You must be getting close now!”
I hope to find out soon…