Word for the day: throwing.
Throwing out old music educator magazines I'd been saving for the articles, some since 1998, after tearing out just the parts I wanted and filing them. My bookcases are beginning to have room for more important things. Much more to do.
Throwing a pottery bowl today on the kick-wheel out in the barn, doors open looking out on gray sky, green lawn and almost leafless trees beyond. Just as I finished the bowl, the temperature started to drop, from 60F earlier to 53F, the wind and rain came. Brrrrrr. I was damp from the water and clay. Had to clean up quickly, hurry inside and take a hot shower. I'm a wimp when it comes to cold. Really need to check out getting that propane heater and lights.
Getting ready to throw my hat back into the business marketing/promotion ring at another level. I've begun learning to use Constant Contact in preparation for sending out a monthly e-newsletter. I'm still several steps away, but the goal is in sight.
I've been thrown off a bit the past few days. Haven't heard from friend who was out on the road, going through a tough time. I hope she's OK.
I really need to take a day to throw caution to the wind and go out on an adventure myself. I've been delaying, not sure why.
PS - A clarification. I'm actually recycling all the old magazines. Three paper grocery bags full, so far.
I'm a fanatic when it comes to recycling. I pick through the trash here at home to find things that others didn't take the time to put in the recycling bin. The thought of recyclable and reusable things going to the landfill really bothers me. I'm sort of weird that way.
Same thing for wasted food. Very little gets thrown away here if I can help it. Scraps either go to the cats, if they're meat or dairy, or into the compost pile if they're plant matter or eggshells.
I thought about saving the magazines for collages, but it just felt better to make a clean start this time.
©2006 Kay Pere - Effusive Muse Publishing
Tuesday, November 7, 2006
Thursday, November 2, 2006
Completion / Reflection
Late fall. This is the time for quiet reflection that follows, and precedes, intense activity.
It's been a hugely busy fall for me, a giant project recently completed and awaiting response. It's also been a time of repeated illness--colds, laryngitis, fevers, allergies--fortunately over now. The two, combined, left little time for contemplative writing, outside of the occasional journal entry or email sent to friends.
Gaia Luna Garden has been put to bed for the season. Its protective circle is closed for now. The harvest is over, except for a few herbs remaining until the first hard frost comes.
My pottery tools and supplies have been brought in from the Art Barn. I may still use the kick wheel on days when the weather is warm enough. A propane heater and overhead lighting for the space are being considered. They might enable me to work out there even when the snow comes. It's a drafty old barn, though. I don't know if any heater could warm it effectively. The only way to find out may be to try.
Now that one big project is behind me (or the launch pad phase of it anyway), I'm beginning to look toward harnessing that energy to reach other goals.
Before I proceed, though, I need to take time to capture the many ideas and competing goals circling in my mind these days, to listen attentively for what they might tell me.
It’s imperative to write down my goals, ideas, and wishes as they occur. Certain ideas arise only in specific circumstances. I’ve set traps for these, all around the house, built from stacks of blank 3x5 cards and piles of sharpened pencils. I ensnare ephemeral intentions, transcribing them as they coalesce, quickly, before they can evaporate into a fog of recollection and a chalky residue of regret.
I’ve tried writing these things down in long lists, on pads of paper, in composition books, or in my Palm software on my computer. These lists quickly become outdated, stagnant.
3x5 cards seem to be a practical solution. I can add to them flexibly, prioritized them tactilely, spread them out in front of me to examine in a variety of groupings and chronologies.
My growing deck of cards is a computer-free, 3-dimensional database of ideas, in keeping with my preferred, off-the-grid, web-like creative process.
This time of reflection is an important preparation for the next cycle of activity, in the time before it begins again. Perhaps it will add depth and meaning to my creative work.
Action will follow again when the time is right, when I make the choice to move ahead, or when the next idea comes and chooses me to give it life.
(c)2006 Kay Pere -- Effusive Muse Publishing
It's been a hugely busy fall for me, a giant project recently completed and awaiting response. It's also been a time of repeated illness--colds, laryngitis, fevers, allergies--fortunately over now. The two, combined, left little time for contemplative writing, outside of the occasional journal entry or email sent to friends.
Gaia Luna Garden has been put to bed for the season. Its protective circle is closed for now. The harvest is over, except for a few herbs remaining until the first hard frost comes.
My pottery tools and supplies have been brought in from the Art Barn. I may still use the kick wheel on days when the weather is warm enough. A propane heater and overhead lighting for the space are being considered. They might enable me to work out there even when the snow comes. It's a drafty old barn, though. I don't know if any heater could warm it effectively. The only way to find out may be to try.
Now that one big project is behind me (or the launch pad phase of it anyway), I'm beginning to look toward harnessing that energy to reach other goals.
Before I proceed, though, I need to take time to capture the many ideas and competing goals circling in my mind these days, to listen attentively for what they might tell me.
It’s imperative to write down my goals, ideas, and wishes as they occur. Certain ideas arise only in specific circumstances. I’ve set traps for these, all around the house, built from stacks of blank 3x5 cards and piles of sharpened pencils. I ensnare ephemeral intentions, transcribing them as they coalesce, quickly, before they can evaporate into a fog of recollection and a chalky residue of regret.
I’ve tried writing these things down in long lists, on pads of paper, in composition books, or in my Palm software on my computer. These lists quickly become outdated, stagnant.
3x5 cards seem to be a practical solution. I can add to them flexibly, prioritized them tactilely, spread them out in front of me to examine in a variety of groupings and chronologies.
My growing deck of cards is a computer-free, 3-dimensional database of ideas, in keeping with my preferred, off-the-grid, web-like creative process.
This time of reflection is an important preparation for the next cycle of activity, in the time before it begins again. Perhaps it will add depth and meaning to my creative work.
Action will follow again when the time is right, when I make the choice to move ahead, or when the next idea comes and chooses me to give it life.
(c)2006 Kay Pere -- Effusive Muse Publishing
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