Day Fifty Four 2017 Waking In Beauty
February 23, 2017
Vera Cruz, New Mexico
Day Fifty Four 2017 Waking In Beauty
I woke in beauty this morning, my waking moments torn between opening the damper on the wood stove and pulling the string on the bamboo blinds. The blinds won, revealing the first light already shining across the higher slopes while my yard was still cloaked in shadow, the sun barely cresting the mountains to the east. By the time I had the fire going the light had summited and all but the lower slopes were brightened and the shadows of the pinion and juniper were cast long towards the west.
Morning in Nogal, with the wind out of the southwest and the higher peaks still cloaked in snow. It was fifty degrees on my porch this morning, still cold enough for a fire though I dampered it immediately. Already the door is open to let out the heat! The large pinion log I tossed in will smolder all day and it is comfortably warm. I sip my tea and listen to the wind, glad that it has allowed me to have a fire and not sweeping the smoke back in to the house as it is like to do on occasion. There is a turk’s cap on the pipe for that reason and it spins happily this morning, serving its purpose as it should. The fire crackles happily beside me, reminding me again of my good fortune.
There is nothing else I can ask for at this moment except that this could be a constant and that there be no other demand on my time or attention! How many times have I sat in this very spot and had the same sentiment? How many others have I reflected on the desire for something more also? My father chided me years ago and suggested that I am a mal-content, never to be satisfied. In some ways that may be true, and I am always striding to better on my circumstance because of that, but in others he was wrong. I have always known what I wanted and my faithful followers have heard me repeat it so many times, it is the getting there which is so hard. Ahh, but, as I noted so many years ago from this very place, I am there, already.
All shadows face west at this moment, across the shoulders of the Carrizo and the Vera Cruz, the wood pile, the barn and the trees. The wind hums loudly and gusts as it will but thankfully carries the dust away from me today. I have had enough dust and only now am I breathing comfortably. I am here until Sunday and today is only Thursday! I have been selfish and taken all the extra hours I have worked and saved them up just for this. I don’t even have a plan, but I brought my artwork with me, though I wish I had my paints! I feel as creative as I have felt in a long time and I am inclined to create something beautiful. Instead I will busy myself with the completion of simple pieces which are more than marketable and simply waiting for my attention.
Funny thing, I have spent a great deal of time here making a living with my art also, and supplementing it with whatever else I could do. My life was so simple then, yet the struggle was a constant and given my skills I was inclined to search for better things. Having spent so much of the past five years trying to better that process I find myself back where I started and no less clear on my future prospects! There is a pattern here which needs to be altered! The sad part is that I would choose to simply stay and figure that out. I have for the moment succeeded too well with the alternatives, being gainfully employed in a reasonably comfortable setting. Perhaps in the end I have struck the balance! If I cannot stay it is an attainable goal to be here some of the time, and I intend to practice that also. The key is, as always, to make the very best use of my time, all of it, and today is the time to start. I have won it back for the moment and the simple pleasure of the moment is as precious as any.
I intend to walk today, in spite of the wind, as I did yesterday evening before I came here. Just moments after I stepped out of my truck I was in utter isolation and the canyons began to speak, as they so often will. Even on the stillest days they have their own song but the moment they send forth the wind their voices rise in harmony, ancient and mysterious, sacred as any libation! My heart lifts with their music and the worries of the world peal (no, really) away, their din lost in the depth of the canyons and as quickly forgotten. If I have always had the innate ability to find harmony in my solitude the skill has strengthened with the years and the relief is immediate. I find the desire for the same growing in equal proportions and my aversion to all else is stronger also. It is why I have returned here, as grateful as ever to wake in the beauty which surrounds me here. If I can only find the means to replicate that elsewhere I should be content, it is truly all I need! Some things never change……………