Taking breaks and supporting artists
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Taking breaks and supporting artists
I find myself, now too many times, writing and sending this reflection the morning it is to be published. For so long, thanks to the writing workshop I started last February where I committed to writing for 100 days, I was so far ahead in my reflections that there wasn’t much concern about publishing. Eventually, those initial reflections began to run out and I was only a week ahead. And then I was writing three reflections each weekend to be published the next week. Even as I moved to two days a week, I found myself writing only one or two days in advance. Now, here we are. Writing and publishing the morning of—and later and later each morning, even.
It’s been about a month since I further slowed down, republishing some of the “best of” reflections with new commentary. Clearly, it hasn’t been slow enough. I could give lots of reasons (or excuses) for the muse not visiting as often—covid brain, more work (which I’m not complaining about), less time to read, colder temps and less sunshine, etc—but the biggest one is probably that I still think of it as the muse and I’m waiting for inspiration to strike, instead of sitting my ass in a chair each day and writing, no matter what comes out. Whether I’m waiting for the muse to appear or writing daily as the pros do, a little more open brain space would do me good. Even the pros take vacations.
So, I’ll be taking a short hiatus from publishing. A week, maybe two. But I will be back.
In the meantime, I’ll leave you with one more “best of” post from last May. It’s fitting for this week, as we bought two beautiful original paintings from an estate sale yesterday. The house was full of art, most of which appeared to be original. They told us the owner was a collector who liked to support the “starving artists” of the world, and whenever she traveled she would find her way into small galleries and shops and buy a painting to support the artist. What a lovely idea.
She didn’t care if the artist ever become famous or if what she purchased went up in value. She loved art and artists and her only goals were to allow working artists to continue to fulfill their passion and to have a home full of beautiful art that made her happy. I am inspired by her spirit and hope I can carry it on in some small way as I (eventually, once again) travel the world, seeking out the small galleries and shops, supporting the artists of the world.
I love you
For the part of me
That you bring out;
I love you
For putting your hand into my heaped-up heart
And passing over all the foolish, weak things
that you can't help dimly seeing there.
And for drawing out into the light
all the beautiful belongings that no one else
had looked quite far enough to find.From “Love”, by Roy Croft*
Visiting antique stores and estate sales is one of my favorite past times. These lines remind me of this feeling, especially from estate sales, where you are in someone’s house, sifting and searching through things that once had meaning and use to some unknown person and you find something delightful and exciting. It feels like it was meant just for you, but you know you had to show up and make the effort to find it—looking past the obvious things everyone else saw, seeing the potential and purpose it would have in your own life.
The poet calls us to remember how meaningful it is to do this for each other—to think about our relationships this way. Looking past the obvious for the jewels buried within another and drawing them out. Bringing to light the things that others might overlook, but we see the potential and purpose, not only for the other person but for our own lives, in relationship with them.
There is a beautiful exchange between people at this level—a deep care and connection that isn’t found with many. Something to protect. Something to cherish and be grateful for.
Add your Echo:
Who has inspired a habit or tradition that you carry on in your travels?
(Reply or tap the heart to share your thoughts)