Tag Archives: tomorrow is another day

TOMORROW IS ANOTHER DAY

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I have to say I’m as tired as could be. Not that it was that full a day but it’s an accumulation of days. Though it is difficult to have the clarity of mind, I am here none the less. Sometimes just showing up can rejuvenate. I’m a wilting Lily getting a little water. Give me a few moments to perk up.

Maybe it would be wise for me to get some rest. I can still show up but I don’t have to run my battery at full throttle. It is not a must do or die thing. There’s no demand for my services really. I have no bosses to answer to, no job to show up for.  It is just my own obsessions. So sit back, have a cup of tea or sip that glass of wine. Tomorrow is another day.

 

EVOLVING- Day 146 – 147 in a year of…

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Day 146 – 147, December 19, 2016 @12:20 pm

Cloudy day. Our minus 30s degree C have climbed to – 3 C overnight. Life is still hard. I feel the changes of temperature rising in my physical body. I lack the energy of the EverReady Bunny. There is no good news. The Russian ambassador to Turkey has been fatally shot. The world seems to be imploding. Still the earth spins on its axis as always. And I must too.

It is another day in this year of doing different. I bring out my brushes. I bring out my paints. I make little strokes here and there. Sometimes I make big splashes. I change the colour. I change the hue – sometimes subtle, sometimes bold. There are no mistakes in painting. There are no mistakes in life. I rather think of them as lessons. They teach me to let up, change directions, change whatever I need to. That’s what is called evolution. It just take little changes each day. Look what can happen in 14 days.

After all this, I am not sure if I am happy with how I am evolving. Tomorrow is another day. Evolution never stops.

THE SCREAMER – day 138-140 in a year of……

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Day 138 – 140, December 12, 2016 @4:52 pm
img_8729Some days I wonder: For what purpose was I born? Today, I wonder that and: For what purpose am I doing this year of change? Today, I wonder: Have I made any difference? What I know for sure today is: I am not in a peaceful happy space. Today, I wonder: What do these people want from me? What does the world want? When will everything just blow up since there is so much PUNCH, BANG, KA-KA-KA out there? Why don’t we just get it over with – delete and start again. If only it is as simple as that. And so, I continue to sling paint onto the canvas. I could get bolder and throw fistfuls at it. I can be the New Age Edvard Munch. I wish that it was me who had painted The Scream. I want to scream.

I’m not that far gone, as you can see. My painting is nowhere’s near the fright of The Scream. I’m just talking out of my hat/my purple haze. I should have kept the snakes and vipers. Munch is my new hero. I want to paint like him. I quote him –

“No longer shall I paint interiors with men reading and women knitting. I will paint living people who breathe and feel and suffer and love.”

img_8632Lofting aspirations, but I am talking out of my hat, through a purple haze. I am one of those knitting women. I wouldn’t want to obliterate me. But who knows. Strange things happen when you put words onto a page.

Guess what? I am feeling better. I’ve stopped screaming. I don’t wonder anymore. What do I care? I just do. I just be. That is purpose enough.  Onward, James! Tomorrow is another day. I can anguish some more then.

 

 

CRANKY – day 130 – 132 in a year of…..

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Day 130 -132, December 4, 2016 @10:37 am

15271825_10154038338845887_2240190510471099581_oThe sun has finally shown up. My dining table is still in order. My magic black bullet is next to me. I’m sitting with my black tea. I’m trying a different taste and to shed a few calories. I’ve opened the screen to write. But I’m feeling as cranky as can be. I will accept this feeling, just sitting and observing it.  I will not try to fix it. I’m giving up that job of being Mrs. Fix-It. I’ll just sit and tap – maybe words, a song, a dance, but no resumes for another Mrs. Fix-It position.

Do I really love Orange Pekoe tea, sweetened and whitened that much or am I addicted to the same old, same old?  What is in that tea?  Curiosity led me to google Orange Pekoe and I find that it is how they grade tea.  It is a high grade. Good for me!  It could be/very likely that I’m addicted to the honey and milk I put in.  I will try black for awhile.  I will try different – teas, too.  My cupboard is full of them – all kinds.

Hmmm.  I see a pattern here – drinking the same tea though my cupboard is full of many kinds.  I tend to wear the same clothes though my closet is bursting with other clothes.  My lizard brain doesn’t like change.  It likes the same old, same old, just like me!  Grrr! Changing is a very hard job.  It is for the birds.

But wait!  Let me not get discouraged.  I have made in roads.  I have faced off with my biggest dragons and demons and survived.  I am developing experience and opinions. Hooray for me!  Tomorrow is another day.  Crankiness is another part of life.  Brains are what they are.  I am rewiring mine.  Onward, James! Fly me to the moon.  Let me play among the stars.

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