If my second daughter's second daughter
isn't about to give in and be born other things are changing without
her. And often that's the way things happen - quietly without us noticing things are changing they just do, Even if we don't feel the movement from the inside, often decisions are forced by what happened while we weren't looking.
Coincidentally the words we use on Twitter are being made into clouds as rain falls on fresh blooms outside windows in my physical world. Water pools under the fence as the words we are use have meaning and pool to give us a picture of our virtual lives.
In my physical world the trickles from puddles gather into a sweep of water that washes across the yard and down the road. Eventually without relief overflows happen.
The obvious was in front of my face. It's a force at work that I can't explain. Some of you have seen the basket case videos - so you know about my sorting and decision making and things I'm sure can be useful.
Always be useful. Don't be wasteful. I have reminded myself since childhood.
But as the things from those baskets and bins pass through my fingers they take on meaning I hadn't seen before. Sifting through supplies was a short step to revisiting art pieces. Decisions were on the agenda. They had to be.
As the items moved through my hands to one container or another I thought. What needs finishing touches; what deserves another look; what needs to be photographed and sold for the "paying for cancer treatment" effort; what needed to be given away as I accept my physical condition as the now and future reality.
Moving bits of the pieces of my life from container s of one sort to containers of another has me focusing not so much on things but on on the symbolic.
What do the things I touch represent? What hold meaning for me?
The words, colors, lines, images - even the written word and lines on paper are speaking to me as I touch them; move them. What we write and what we say - and the imarks we make - the colors that we use. They spill over from the physical word to the reality of life online and back and forth like water pouring from one pitcher to another.
I see that image in my mind and wonder what I'm pouring out, what I'm saving for a drought. What drops I dare not lose.
The image came to me of letters pouring from one pitcher to another - with letters splashing out from time to time. That reminded me of Babbleswarm, a mixed reality art project I just wrote about for Second Chances blog wherein words spoken in the physical world become words on a screen in a virtual word, with letters pouring from the sky like rain.
Lovely and magic, Lyrical or harsh. Words and actions are what we make them.
Even without a birth in the family, take a creative spirit and an analytical gene and images and words - our own and others - take on almost mystical connections to our thoughts.
For some of us - me perhaps in particular - the actions we think have nothing to do with what we're writing about or creating continues to play some unclear supportive role in the shadows.
I see text superimposed on images in my future. Or perhaps I'm accepting that the written word will be my next large creative challenge.
Things are moving, And things are changing from the inside out.
