Spira

The seat of my soul is the natural world.

Is there enough inside of me to be whole? One can never be whole outside of themselves. You can only occupy you. You might as well believe it is true, because it already is. Life brings experience, relational experience. Philosophically, too, life brings things such as: It-vs.-Isn’t, not just this-vs-that.

I cannot grow old here. I’m a drunk, at her desk, and it is raining outside. The window is open, there are feathers of an oceanic breeze coming in from the Indigo Outside. Created by nature and by will of god, I am obliged to stay.

And so I must go. On and on. In circles and in spirals. Widening ever outward, into the realms of inner and outer space.

Mental health day!

Things looking lovely, candles lit; house cleaned; feel great from the hike; stayed away from the computer, mostly; ate lightly, sparingly.

Adam showed me the new Matrix trailer, and I have not been excited to see a movie like that in a very fucking long time. It is a wonderful feeling! It was amazing to feel it! I feel like this film will be very special to me, let’s see if I’m right. I am not going to watch the prequels before I see the new one. I don’t want to.

***

The Death Card

Card I pulled: You are going to go through a major change, transition, or transformation. The old version of you needs to ‘die’ to allow the new you to be created. This can be a scary time for you because you may be unsure of what will happen in the future. Even if you are scared, you should welcome the change because you are opening the door to new life events.

I feel a sense of impoverishment living in the desert. This city is too populous. I need to live closer to quieter, more natural environments. Places away from people that I can spend enough time in, and often alone. Preferably places with water and dark soils. I did not think I would feel this way so soon, and I know that we must wait at a minimum two years to do, if we did, when we do.

The desert has been my womb, within which I could sleep, could rest, could die within, to commune with the Something Special & Other that is very real. But now I feel I’m being pushed out and brought into something like a new life.

So what do I do now? I feel like starting over. I think I may start a whole, new blog. If and when I do, I’ll be sure to post that link here for anyone interested. I just want a fresh start; a blank space with no past and only creatively contemplating the future – future of art, beauty, interests. Pictures of places I go. Watercolors of those places. More colorful, more illustrative. Work in a watercolor journal again (it’s been awhile! maybe it’s a winter thing?)

Yes, that’s what I AM going to do. I’m going to start a new blog. I’d like a lighter, more colorful fresh start.

OH PLEASE LORD, PLEASE FUCKING LORD MAKE THIS SUMMER FUCKING SUN SHIT END. GOD HELP MY WHITE FUCKING SKINE AND ME BLACK FUCKING HEAD CA’NO’ TAKE IT ANY FUCKING LONGER.

Waves rise and waves fall.

I fucking hate summer. I fucking hate being fucking hot as fuck and unable to go out for fucking anything without bracing for it.

This is such a GREAT song, holy shit! He is the most romantic singer ever made music. When I was a kid, I didn’t understand why this wasn’t played more on the radio. It’s so beautiful and he makes the beauty of love seem so painfully beautiful. Like, the shapes of feeling, created by the mind because of this music (and all music), it’s just so amazing. We are just energy vibrating. It’s true. Only we get to shape the song, unlike other beings and energies. We are special. We are artists.

Author: Jen Crow

©Jen Crow. Be sure to ask for permission to use my artwork or photos. I warmly welcome comments and questions.

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