Over the weekend, I packed up my studio space :( It was soooo hard to do, but with Christmas coming, we really needed the extra room. My husband is trying to convince me to set everything back up in the basement (where we put the boxes for now.) He's moving out to a beautiful new office we added on our house...and says I am more than welcome to occupy the basement. It IS finished....but dreary as all get out! Yuck! (But I'll think about it.)
The picture below I took on Thanksgiving morning; it's the view down our street. Gorgeous!
Odd things, like a button drawer.
Mean things, fishooks, barbs in your hand.
But marbles too. A genius for being agreeable.
Junkyard crucifixes, voluptuous discards.
Space for knicknacks, and forAlaska.
Evidence to hang me, or to beatify.
Clues that lead nowhere, that never connected anyway.
Deliberate obfuscation, the kind that takes genius.
Chasms in character. Loud omissions. Mornings that yawn above a new grave.
Pages you know exist but you can't find them.
Someone's terribly inevitable life story, maybe mine.
-- William Stafford
2 comments:
I love, love, love that saying on the old sampler! I first saw it used in one of my fave authors books, Elizabeth Berg. The author of the saying is Rumi.
Love your Thanksgiving picture too!
I agree about the basement, but you could make it cheery with all of your wonderful things!
Love your Thanksgiving picture, it looks like it came right off of a magazine or a greeting card!
Hugs,
Dena
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