I Should Be…

The blog daily practice should seem more established on day 14, one would think.  However, every day is unique, and I seem not the same person who gets to the writing desk in the evening.

I’m Ms. Should-be at the moment.  I should be working on the sheets for Saturday’s cartoon jam workshops.  I should be reading my book club selection.  I should be horizontal after 24 hours of dark chocolate and eclair exposure.  I should be cleaning up the kitchen sink and I should be…

What a tiring person I am when I’m a little off my sleep and sugar level.

I could be Ms. What-I-Didn’t-Say, as I was re-reading some of my recent posts.  Nice descriptions, but skipping over a rough patch or leaving out something intentionally.  Ms. What-I’m-Not-Writing always shows up when I have a writing club going and I’m modeling ways to find what to write about.  So many memories come up for me, and I find some buoyant, although I push them down — submerge them, only to find them popping back up.

But finally, breathing and taking long swigs on my water bottle, I am becoming Ms. Relaxed.  Noticing.  I have a lovely mason jar full of bright flowers and yellow roses on my desk.  From my writing partner.  They are cheerful and it is good to remember my long-lost writing partner.  We get to meet two Saturdays from now.

And I have a low ceramic bowl full of old marbles, mostly cat eyes.  Why I always keep a bowl of marbles around I do not know.  I used to keep them in a pint-sized fruit basket, but now they’re in the ceramic Ikebana bowl.  Sometime I think it reminds me of play, and sometimes a statement about having not lost my marbles, yet.

Actually, once I get here, I notice how pleasant my desk is.  How compatible it is with sitting and writing.  There are journals lined up on the left hand side of the desk.  On the windowsill, well, why not add a snapshot here? Taking it from the lower left to right…

IMG_2201 2

The two bunnies are from one of my long time friends whose nickname, like mine, is also Bunny.  The little ceramic pot next to the bunnies is a Dream Keeper given to me by another friend who is like a sister.  I have breathed a few dreams into it, but really don’t know how it works.  There is a dodecahedron crystal made of acrylic that is a reminder to look for the gems in writing.  The little photo collection has moms with their first born.  My mother is holding me, I am snuggling next to my first daughter, and she has her son over her shoulder.  It gives me a feeling of continuity.

Behind the photos is a print of an early photo I made back when I had a “real” lens film camera, maybe in 1080. It looks monochromatic, but it is a color shot taken in the SF Conservatory.  On the back left, teh fan was a gift from some teachers visiting from Japan who observed some of my writing lessons.  I have always been attracted to that style of printmaking.

The Japanese Lantern bush that mostly screens the window is in winter mode, but there are flowers.  Small birds, like chickadees, come hang on the flower stems and hummingbirds feed, too.  It is delightful for a bird to flit right by the window.

So books and folders and a couple stacks of post-it notes await me working on the comic jam, but not tonight.  I am giving myself permission to post, read some other blogs and give some comment love then head off to sleep early.

 

2 thoughts on “I Should Be…”

  1. I felt like Ms. Relaxed when I read your post. It had a soothing, almost calming quality to it. I liked the way you described your writing space spatially. Overall, this was a reflective piece on the slicing experience as it relates to your work space. I really enjoyed it.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s