I am not sure if this is satire or a little melancholia. I wrote this to detail my feelings as I discard certain “things” from my home in my desire to lighten the load, and not have so much “stuff.” I was thinking about art in all of its forms. Art that requires physical space and art that occupies mental space. I LOVE art I can touch, but I also love art I can read and hear. This was an effort to console me.
Give me art.
I must discard the canvas gently stroked with your brush.
The swirls and the colors shaped beautifully by your gift.
The fiber and the texture I can feel with my touch.
Save draft. I am feeling a bit anxious this morning. A bit in my head. Thoughts racing. What to do. What to do? I want to sit here and watch the birds outside my window. Watch them eat. Food provided by my benevolent husband. It is a paradox. We feed them so we can watch them. They fascinate us. It is for us. It is for our entertainment. Is it really an act of giving? We think we must be the source of their food for the winter. I want to watch them and escape. I am writing today in my Gmail because Gmail will save my draft. I woke up with anxiety this morning as I do most mornings. I began to panic that I didn’t have the necessary backup for my computer. I have so many things to do in 2017. I need to ensure that my writings are saved. I am just not up to it today. So writing in my Gmail is my solution today. It will automatically save this. One thing I am good at is finding solutions. I panic a little; then I move on. There is no time for frying in panic. Frying in panic. Frying seems to be the opposite of marinating. Marinating is stewing in something. Letting it sit. Panic doesn’t do that. Panic takes a hold of you and it makes you done. Fried. I have a lot to do in 2017 and one thing I will do is to continue looking for solutions.