A Feeling of Syncronicity
I love you.
I love you too.
The last of the coffee dribbles from the mouth of the carafe into the drain. I slide on gloves, soap up the sponge and proceed as scheduled.
Distracted by Charlie Sheen, I let the rinse of dishes quiet and peer over my shoulder to the television.
The water pressure increases once again. One final rinse, I hose down the inside of the sink and pull off the gloves, leaving them to dry in the dish rack.
By the time I've lifted the shades to the front bedroom windows and tied back my hair, the computer is slowly progressing into sleep mode. I pull up a chair. I connect to the internet. I find myself inspired.
This is beautiful.
I get up from the chair, camera in hand.
My thoughts fell immediately to J and those afternoons back when we did The Artist's Way together. J, who up until this past Saturday afternoon I had not seen for 10 years. But there we were once again, like it was yesterday. It was a good afternoon.
And now, this morning. A click over to On My Way. It felt as if I had stumbled onto a hidden chapter. One that reveals itself years later, when you need it most. When the winter feels as if it will never end and any creativity feels trapped, frozen inside.
I keep looking at the clock. I'm going to be late...But I don't care.
I don't care.
I really don't.
A moment to feed my creativity. It sounds so cornball and plastic. I have to reach for it when I see it, though.
I am desperate for the fuel.