I Go

Of late, I've had a burst of energy.

I booked my flight to Indonesia. I am going to meet The Man in Jakarta in about three weeks. The Boy stays home.

I stopped making The Boy breakfast and lunch since he doesn't eat them anyway. Guilt be damned.

I finally made sheers for the dining room. They are unobtrusive, even with dragonflies on them. That is, they don't take over the room and provide just the right amount of filter when the sun blazes in late afternoon.

I made pillow shams for my bed and covered a huge canvas above the bed with fabric. Minimal sewing. Lots of glue gun. It's a change of scene for my bedroom. The Boy said my bed now looks like it doesn't belong in our house; it belongs in India. Ah, the Indian influence coming out. I was entertaining the idea my bed looks like it belongs inside a tent out in the desert in the Middle East.

I repaired a friend's wooden antique tables without experience in repairs or knowledge of antiques. I am returning the tables in better shape than even before the tables broke. Aside from re-attaching the table tops to the pedestal legs, the tables no longer wobble.

I re-arranged my kitchen cupboards, then dug my way through the knee-high snow in the backyard and into the shed to drag out things in storage. I throw out some of these things.

I am fearless. I feel creative and productive. I walk on the plane of colours, shades, textures, ideas and representations and call myself an artist.