A Feeling of Syncronicity

A Feeling of Syncronicity

7:30 a.m.

...

I love you.

I love you too.

...

7:35 a.m.

...

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.

...

7:40 a.m.

...

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.

...

Syncronicity

...

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.