Monday, June 07, 2010

Don't Think about the Distance, Pick a Direction and Go!

The hardest part about getting started or re-started is starting. I can't tell how many mornings I have stood outside my apartment building in my shorts and tee-shirt going through some kind of check list- got water bottle, got on sunscreen, got sunglasses, got on the right hat, got music player/phone/camera, got shorts tied up snugly, got shoes tied juuuuust right and my socks are feeling good inside them.........and .... and nothing.


I just stand there.

The morning crow passes overhead.

The committee in my brain is trying to figure how far I should run. There is some disagreement, some resentfulness for even having to be out here and some doubt keeps creeping in to take it's place kneeling right next to depression.

The morning crow passes over. Didn't you think that crows said "Caw"?

They don't. They say "Go!"

So I go.

When I get done I look at the distance run.

When I get finished I get ready to start again.

Copyright 2010 Jonathan (Joe Nation)Jeffries

Sunday, January 31, 2010

A January evening

It was too cold to do anything out of doors, the other basic chores - laundry, kitchen counters, wastebaskets, recycling - all were done. All that was left was the pile of  To-Be-Read on the desk. Well, that and about ten thousand other little things I have been avoiding, for example, the music CDs look like they were dropped on to the floor and thrown back up onto the shelves. They cry out for organizing (and dusting). There's a pile of photos I was supposed to Scan Next sometime before Christmas and there are four speakers on those CD shelves and only two are hooked up. I could go on.
I opted for the Read pile because I can scan a piece of paper quickly and file it or toss it. That went well for about three pieces of paper, a business card for a plumber -saved in the Contacts list, a coupon from Domino's -out,out, do not rest your eyes upon such, and a letter from the Co-op detailing the latest maintanence increase, filed. Then I picked up last year's calendar which I had laid on the Read pile because I wanted to have one more look at the pictures. The works are by Govinder, an artist about whom I know nothing except that I am drawn to the lines and whimsy in the art, the Big Blue Cat I described in this blog a few weeks ago, there's a skinny oddly shaped dog named Tumble Down Dick and more cats. Square, boxy cats in red, yellow and black, a cat (I think) named Ben with kind of a scaly snakelike patch of fur, the huge Mr. BIG and finally a terrific horse named Sundance. I like them all.
Three times I tried to throw the calendar away. Twice it wouldn't fit in the overstuffed basket by my desk and it ended up on desk's  corner, the third time I was headed for the trash chute outside my door when I looked up at the beam in my living room. It was a blank slate waiting.

I had thought about putting something on that beam over  the years I've lived here, I just never really thought about it, if you know what I mean and here, suddenly, was the answer to a question barely asked. I got the scissors, I got the silver push pins, I got the stepstool. I cut up the calendar month by month. The strange thing was then that I saw some of the art as if I had never seen it before. Here was a rabbit, Pippin. And what may be an elephant and some more horses which up until I looked again had seemed to me to be some kind of worms dancing. Nope, horses. Okay.

The skinny dog went in the middle and I added each page to each side until the space was filled with color and shapes, scaly and furry and blue. The only piece which didn't fit was the one of the Doves of Peace. I have that up elsewhere where I can get a better look at it. 

Then I added a Klimt poster which had been standing in a corner of my bedroom for about four months waiting for me to decide if I wanted to put new glass over it. No glass. 
So here is the finished look:

That's it. No big idea here. Or maybe there is. I kept thinking that whenever I see blank spaces in my life, it's good to fill them with inspiration. 

More, not much more, but more @