Hitting the Wall
Last weekend Brian and I enjoyed a brief getaway from the city. On the way up north to the Green Mountain State, we stopped to investigate a housing opportunity in the charming little town of Putney, VT. Why relocate, you ask? The current view from my apartment is captured in the image above. Here is the view I would have from the house we visited, an old country estate being modernized and subdivided into apartments for rent:
As Far as the Eye Can See
I will keep you all apprised as to when and if we will be moving to this paradise any time soon. Renovations are in progress and our application submitted as of this writing. I remain cautiously optimistic, well aware that the Universe sometimes has other better plans than the ones I make, and content to watch and wait and see how this new adventure unfolds. Meantime, I once again managed not to take many pictures while on vacation. It was drizzly and foggy most of the weekend and even as far north as Killington, the local foliage had only just begun to show the vivid colors for which it is famous. Besides, autumnal panoramas don’t really come across well on black and white film, and that is what was and is and evermore shall be in my camera. My current roll is only half-shot, so any salvaged images may take a while to surface here.
Last week I shared some images of new crocheted creations I’ve been focusing on lately. The three new wrist warmers I thought were finished let me know otherwise and demanded they be embellished with buttons, see updated image above, I believe a great improvement. All three are available through my etsy shop.
Here is the next pair to emerge from my new fiber-focused artistic phase. Just in time for Halloween, or any time of year for the cat lovers of the world! In the true spirit of feline rebellion and whimsy, for some reason these buttons refused to be sewn on straight, but I think that suits the spirit of the black cat, keepers of whom will surely corroborate! After one more pair of wrist warmers, I will be working on another scarf or two and share the finished products as completed.
Life is definitely in a flux phase at this point, with no choice but to give in to where the tides will push me next. The photograph above was taken at the beach one month ago, and here we are already in the middle of autumn. I recall that day, how the water made its way further and further onto the sand, forcing the beach goers to retreat and relocate and almost barring access back to the main entrance via a stretch of beach completely open only hours before. Everywhere visible were striations that had been left by previous encroachments of tides, and yet you could see that some folks were still surprised and annoyed that so soon after finding the perfect spot in which to make themselves at home, they had to pack up their things and move by no choice of their own. Other folks simply gathered their belongings and re-settled without complaint.
Time and Tide
It made me think about how change has a way of sorting human beings along a spectrum of types. At one far end are those who value stability and regularity at all costs, to the point that any change, even one that is necessary or beneficial, provokes fear, anger, confusion and grief. At the other end are those who so crave the stimulating challenges of change, they cannot live without it, and create it even where it is not necessary or beneficial. I imagine most of us fall somewhere between the two extremes, or have at times reacted with some of the qualities of both. I am no thrill seeker, tiring quickly of one situation and eagerly dismantling it in order to move on to the next. That said, if a situation doesn’t suit me, I have no qualms getting myself out of it if my well being is at stake. I am also not what might be considered a nester, or one who puts down roots, whether they be physical connections to certain surroundings, or psychological ties to a given role or identity or title defined by circumstances or persons. And yet, I am comforted by the routines and rituals that give daily life its familiar rhythms, and quickly establish them wherever I may be.
I suppose I have struggled with this dichotomy all my life, with equal urges in me to be situated in the world in a meaningful way and also remain free. I know many people who find their place early in life and thrive on that continuity and security undisrupted and utterly content. I know others whose whole lives fall apart the first time any piece of their cherished and established structure is compromised. I know people whose quest for the right thing uses up their entire existence, who constantly question or defend whether the fault is theirs or that of a world which simply cannot provide them the satisfaction they require and ought not sacrifice just for the outward appearance of living happily and successfully according to accepted standards.
Open to Change
If you had asked me half my life ago whether I wanted to be beginning yet another new life with 14 months to go before my 50th birthday, on the verge of a complete change of scenery, company and routines, I would have said no. If you had asked me whether that was probably what would happen, and whether I would be prepared to take on such a challenge with joy and hope, the answer would have been, and still is, a loud and enthusiastic HELL, YES!
May you all find the perfect balance of questing and nesting.