Muses come to the spirit, and the spirit is the crossroads of the mind and the body. Inspiration is felt in the hands as much as the head. The fingertips ache to push into clay while the mind can see a form as if it already exists. It swells in the belly and the chest, and not answering what wants to be born will cause trouble and physical pains. Fingers cramp, thoughts scatter. Best to follow what calls. I've got an absurd number of projects going on, but I'm a taut string that can't resist the vibration. Especially with this: playing the saw in a great little show called Vaudevillain, and trying out my fiddle again after finally getting its bridge fixed. The saw needed a heap of de-rusting, so do I.
Meanwhile the rug still wants to grow, a few stitches at a time, and the kitchen is looking like someplace you'd buy really good cheese, except for the bathtub in the middle.
2 comments:
flowers are dying . . .
With the exception of the tub, and the dying flowers. They were there for a long time! I need to come and get more.
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