I have insomnia ... again ... damn ...
Yesterday I had such good intentions but, as often happens these days, I was led astray.
I began to work on the lazy susan and decided that I didn't like the symmetry that was happening. I was working within a circle and using triangles, curved lines and circles, but I began to make symmetrical patterns with the same objects. It looked more like wallpaper or fabric than one of my funky things. So I put down the chalk and went up to look at Kandinsky's art. He used the same shapes but didn't repeat them. Rather he balanced the composition by suggesting a circle sometimes or by placing two small triangles opposite a larger one ... So ... I made myself some large pieces of paper the size of the lazy susan and began drawing. It is getting there, but it's not finished yet.
At lunch time I took my book and my plate down to the deck, ate and then went out in the kayak with Kenya swimming behind me. Occasionally she swam to shore and made her way through the woods. At Tanya's she was polite enough to shake a fair distance away from Tanya's chaise longue where she was reading. At the beach she scared one child and delighted two others by rushing up to say hello.
Then I cut the grass and beheaded a small garter snake. Instinctively, I said, "I didn't mean to." It didn't help the snake, of course, to know that his death was entirely accidental, but I thought about how much I have changed to have said that. I have had a phobia about snakes all my life. I realize now that I am no longer afraid of them. Oh, they can still startle a shriek out of me when they appear suddenly from under a board I am moving, but I no longer feel the abject terror or sick horror that used to seize me. No longer do I have that adrenalin rush that makes flight at amazing speed my instantaneous reaction.
I did some housework and walked down to collect the mail, but I didn't sand any chairs or do any painting. I did play with the silk scraps and think about the sexy black chair with the gracefully slim legs. And I did finish reading The Flying Troutmans and begin reading Barack Obama's autobiography.
I cooked chicken on the barbecue and ate dinner alone because Tamarak and company had brake trouble that kept them home. And then I watched Walk the Line, the Johnny Cash movie that is one of my all time favourites, while knitting a pair of little girl's socks from the wool/silk/nylon blend I bought on Wednesday. They feel lovely and silky smooth. And then it was bedtime ...
Tomorrow is another day ... and it may just disappear in a haze of indecision, inaction and enjoyment too. Aren't I lucky?