I have the most beautiful maple tree outside of my room. It has been a great pleasure to beckon in the new season like this, watching the colors slowly change.
I have been thinking about how different my life is from this time last year. I was in Spain, cleaning and farming at an art residency. I was so happy to just be there. I could hardly believe it. I would pour water on the clay ground and make little sculptures that I would leave as offerings to old trees or wishing wells. I would get tipsy with artists and they would tell me a bit about their life. I would sneak up Nippy the cat into my room in the evenings to cuddle. I would hideaway in the solarium after working and write a little bit. It was wonderful.
But, now that I’m thinking about it, I’m sure too there were feelings of annoyance and frustration. Feelings of restlessness on that land outside of a small town that you needed to take a train and two buses to get to. It is hard to remember quite how I felt, or quite what that was like. It is funny to me how distant a reality can feel when you are out of it. That the person I am feeling like now, overall homebody and semi recluse, is the same person who was sleeping on her bag in the Madrid train station, or swimming topless in the mediterranean ocean. Every time I think I’m getting to some truth about myself I slip away just as easily.
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