One of Jonathan’s surprising talents is these Ukrainian-style, decorated eggs. They are drawn in wax, freehand, then dyed. For the multi-colored ones it’s a complex procedure of dying, rinsing, and negative wax placement. I would never have the patience. He hasn’t had time to make eggs for quite a while, but I’m hoping he might get there soon. No matter your particular outlet, losing yourself in creativity is deeply peaceful and therapeutic.
At the moment, I am in a temporary state of lassitude, in between, on the threshold of an unknown venture. I’ve learned the transient nature of these periods, so I’m trying not to fret over it. It will be my first non-teaching semester in 4 ½ years, my first attempt at a full-time writing life. I have the ultimate distractions in residence right now – kids, granddaughter, granddogs. But soon I’ll have to send off my manuscript for copyediting, and complete a slew of preliminary work to submit to She Writes Press for my book.
Then maybe I’ll find my way to creativity: new writing productions, poetry, music, newspaper or magazine stories. I hope to find my way into that meditative space where time disappears. For now, I’ll hover here on the cusp of who-knows-what, just living.
My 60th year in 60,000 words
Day 123: 208 words, TOTAL = 20,192; 39,808 remaining
Robin Clifford Wood is an award-winning author, poet, and writing teacher. She lives in central Maine with her husband, loves to be outdoors, and enjoys ever-expanding horizons through her children, grandchildren, and granddogs.