Gluttony of riches in transition

Spring has rushed in with the wind this week in Rosebud.  It is stripping all the caterpillar shaped seed pods off the trees and scattering them everywhere.  The sky is blue, the grass is green and things seem warm and bright.  

My parents blew in as well and it's fun to have them here at a time when the weather is nothing to complain about.

Donovan and Weston are certainly creative these days, moulding tinfoil scary masks and helmets and playing in the dirt and biking.  -Of course wii is still a big distraction at times, even on a perfect day to be outside, but we're working on that.
     Today is our last day of Ron Reed's "A Bright Particular Star" at Rosebud Theatre.  It is a real shift in many ways.  Like the eager Alberta spring, my duties at the Canadian Badlands Passion Play are already sprouted and growing with meetings and workshops and creative musings about staging and story.
And in another part of my conscious my play I Heard the Bells is pining to be weeded and tending.  I think I'm finally ready for a good pruning and turning of the soil on that one.  It's growing so large inside me, I'm longing for a space to write.  But... I honestly don't see one.  Yet.  I may have to give up more sleep to let that one happen.
 In the meantime, we're chipping away at student evaluations, grading, cleaning house and taxes.  Yes.  We're late.
The other night I hosted a risk night in the Gallery.  It's a safe way for artists to share things work they may not have mastered yet, but are eager to try.
  

I was especially touched when little Arwen Eliuk preached an impromptu sermon on Jesus even loving our enemies.  She was so clear and earnest.  She also enthusiastically cheered on every performer, and even sat near Matt as he sang his song.

...

The sun seems to be around all the time now and disorients my sense of time.  Meals tend to be later and the mornings earlier.

There's also a certain sadness... a nostalgia for happy times in the past in the sun.  Although if I'm honest, those times weren't any more happy than now.  They were laden with possibility, but I was also more afraid.  Now that I'm maturing (in some ways), I am less afraid, but not as agile or free with my time.

So it is with a certain opening of my hands that I try to let go of my acting gig and step into directing while the churning thoughts of the playwright continue to fester into something burning to get out.  My mother and wife roles are catch as catch can as I hand some of that over to David in the coming weeks.
Sigh.
My life is a gluttony of rich opportunities.
I hope I have the vision to grasp it as a gift.