This top picture is from the back acres of Rosebud by the burn pile. LaVerne Erickson (founder of Rosebud School of the Arts, etc.) said he likes the idea of students leaving behind works of art as a testament to their time here--like a legacy. This strange skeleton man has puzzled me many a walk out west. John Miller says he's going to put a flagpole in his hand. That might be good... at least then it would seem useful as well as artful. Why do I need art to be useful to have more merit?
The next picture of the bell symbolizes my constant mental stew: my play "I Heard the Bells" where I am compiling, ordering and creating a story for a Christmas musical.
Then there's Weston who picked and delivered dandelions to various Rosebuddies. They really are beautiful... whatever people say. I remember once when I was four I picked as many from the field beside our house as I could wrap my fist around and gave them to my mother as a gift. She was very grateful and put them in water in the center of the table. She seemed so pleased and I felt proud. I'm so glad nobody told me they were weeds.
Donovan took a "tornado tube" to school with Dave yesterday to demonstrate a swirling water spout. It's really beautiful. There's the crooked tube on our table with Donovan in the background. I miss him. Yesterday he got put off center when we suddenly had five guests coming for dinner and a huge chicken to roast. His computer privilege got shoved back and that was a bit too much for him to take. --Sometimes my heart aches to connect to him but I must wait for an opening. -Today after school he spent an hour turning Lego's into his favorite Pokemon character right now: Regigigas. Stunning. I'm glad he creates when he needs re-centering; it's so much better than hiding.
But... today I lost my sense of security and grace.
Dave went to the office after he got out of the show "to drop something off" and didn't return home for 40 minutes. Those forty minutes were precious to me because I had a 5 year old begging to build a boat and a cork gun "as soon as Daddy got home." I felt so trapped. I was frustrated and suddenly felt out of control and uncertain about so many things in my life.
It's audition season at Rosebud along with many other theatres and there are windows of possibility unsought and sought that are being opened and shut. Makes one a little uncertain... again.
I'm also not finding enough time to write my play in the way I wish. Two hours a day seem to whiz by and I'm left feeling rather scattered.
Dave and I talk about how other couples seem to have an easier time because it looks like one of them willingly stays home and tends to things while the other pursues their ambition. What do we do in a situation where both of us wish to pursue our ambitions? As a woman, there is incredible pressure to cave: from myself, from society and workplace, and inadvertently, from Dave. This wrestling to use one's gifts and knowing when to lay them down is very confusing to me right now and having auditions raise their heads is even more disorienting. We don't know which opportunity to invest in when there are so many needs and desires for both of us.
So... I'm not feeling very balanced, courageous or gracious and I need clarity and understanding. But all I want is comfort.
I don't want to leave a strange piece of art legacy that is confusing or audacious or self-serving. I hope I would want to leave an invisible legacy that fostered goodness and creativity in others. I still walk the labyrinth behind the church and I'm glad I championed that. But today I let Weston on the computer to play games while I just lay down on the couch and rested. Why am I so tired and why am I not more motivated to give to Weston during this precious "at home" time?
Maybe my art doesn't have to first be useful. Or maybe my "useful" tasks could be more infused with art? Either way, I must make what I do personal or it will not be relevant and I will lack motivation. One thing I know, I am not as energetic as I used to be. I wonder if as I age, I become more reluctant to stretch; scary thought. Nonetheless, I am learning to ask for what I need as soon as I can determine what that is. Unglamorous and simple: I need to help myself in order to give. (This is the same lesson I wrote on a couple days ago, I know.) --Obviously it's still sinking in. I have my own skeletons I need to acknowledge and keep processing, even if I can't do all of that on my blog, it's important to mention that lest I give the wrong impression.
But thank God, even dandelions can be beautiful when they are given and received in earnest!
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