Sunday, November 14, 2004

Sunday mornings aren't always this nice...

The last day of deer hunting season. I got up and walked the field with the dogs, my hair wild from strange dreams. Following Anu's lead as she sniffed out deer beds. And it's good to see that they have found a peaceful place to sleep. Round, matted down beds, sometimes in groups of three. Distant sounds of gun shots, but no longer spots of orange perched in trees reminding me of red of cardinals in the distance. I am not used to sharing my privacy out here. I will be glad when it's over.
Getting up and going outside with the dogs has become a good habit though, which I think I will continue. I am amazed at how many beautiful little wonders are to be found. Everything covered in frost, sometimes just brown and bristling-- an earthy winter music. I feel my place in the world without having to take up much space. It is a good start to the day.

After returning indoors I made coffee and retreated to my canvas-- a large one that now holds the sketch for my next painting-- a landscape. I will block in the color today. Homework can wait. I have better things to do. As I worked on this drawing I felt my mind settle into a familiar comfortable-- into the part of the brain that rhetorical theory does not ues. This morning I will work in the studio, adding color to the skeleton image on my canvas. Today my daydreams have shifted away from babies and simply to my painting studio. I digress from yesterdays musings... strange hormonal occurrences that make me say strange things.

The chickadees are becoming so tame that they are almost willing to take perch on my hand. Anu takes an interest as well. She is a wolf on the outside, but a chickadee at heart. I am looking forward to this winter-- as I do every year. Something about the cold makes me feel more alive. Connected.

...and enough of these rambling thoughts. A bubble bath and then off to the studio. Maybe a bowl of oatmeal in between. Thank god for Sundays. ...or at least taking advantage of them.

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