a little like dancing

I awaken from the billion hour sleep.
I slept in the sun of yesterday as well as the dark and even until today's morning light. I am impressed with this sudden ability.

Opening my eyes this morning, I noticed how dry and chalky they were and how my spine felt fused together and not fluid. Today will be a good day to move around and drink water. Today I will go to the studio and listen to some new music and work. It is important that I get back on track.

Just came across a couple of my old journals, and as I leafed through them, there were plans and goals written almost 5 years ago. Sometimes it seems when I am taking care of nothing the most gets done.

Here is a dog eared entry:

34+5= 39

Where do I want to be in five years? Scrawled across the top of the page, in what I can tell is my favorite pen, my inky and loose cursive.

"I would like to paint 20-30 hours a week in a nice studio space either in a dedicated space out of the home or in a building near by. Ideally 1-3 miles from my home. I would like to leave my home to work."

I am 38 now. I met this goal last year right after I had just turned 37. This is something I wanted and now have. Something about seeing it in writing and now accomplished is satisfying. Does it have to be in writing for me to believe and feel I wonder?

What is not satisfying is typing up old journal entries. And what to photograph? My leg has fallen asleep in half lotus while I type. The prickly needles are telling me it is time to get on with it. What will it be? Surely not a feather, a hand or a bunch of cotton...

Suddenly I feel a little like dancing.
(It must be the music)

* check out last year's entry. It was one year ago today that I rented my studio. Serendipity reigns supreme.