At one point between my last entry and this writing, I made a picture of my blog page the screen saver on my phone. It makes me happy. It reminds me - in the midst of a manic streak of work, at times when my energy and self-esteem are low, and various other otherwise overlooked opportunities – that I am more. Creative. Gifted. And a little funny.

It should also be known that I was COMPLIMENTED for my handwriting! In fact, the gal (whose picture I should have taken) said I should address wedding invitations – that she had seen script like mine on Pinterest. I can’t yet agree that it’s worthy of, or could even be effective as, font (imagine mailmen trying to decipher words once the automated systems reject them). Nonetheless, I accept her acknowledgement that I am – and she described – creative.

It has most certainly been a time of creativity. Chad and I have been redefining the space which is our home, and I’ve been focusing on expanding my existence in the ways I mentioned last post.

I bought a pair of active shoes. Technically, they’re running shoes – and I’ll use them for a bit of that here and there, but I also have to be kind enough to myself to say that getting them out for a walk around the block is a win as well. Exploring my physicality in terms of fitness is very much like an excavation!

I painted. A friend came over for what I termed a “heART” date, and it didn’t take long for me to find my way back to acrylics on canvas.

I’ve taken to surrounding myself with more art as a whole, in fact. I finally ordered a print from Herbivore in Portland, to hang. Beloved personal pieces have been resurrected from storage and now adorn the inside of my closet doors – and in a curve of our bedroom mantle, in a place only seen as I lie in bed, hangs The Seeker.

I drew him at a chain Italian restaurant in Opry Mills, if memory serves. On the butcher paper tabletop, our server skillfully wrote his name backwards and upside down (always impressive), then left us with a few colors to occupy the time between water and wine. I don’t know where this tribal scout came from – goodness knows I wasn’t expecting a profound moment amidst such hustle and bustle - but he invited me to hover over him long enough to capture the arial view in waxy blue and red. I don’t know if he is me or simply mine – but like the blog page photo, he reminds me. To always keep looking. That there is more. And that sometimes more isn’t MORE – but less.

Now, he is a first image for my days – and I’m having a good run of them.