swinging the bat & talking with the sea

thanks to the artist's way [don't judge a book by it's cover...yeah yeah, bad color scheme and cliche illustration], i've gained a little more creative desire and drive recently.  the past few weeks it's been so nice outside--sky blue sky fall days that ask me to see the leaves where they are--on the trees--rather than indulging preemptive visions of them on the ground. with the autumn light leaning in they look so good up there, where they're supposed to be for now.

i've been coming to lindsey gardens, looking over the baseball diamond where, as a member of the ragtag mets little league baseball team, i mostly refused to swing the bat.  i was convinced the pitcher would throw four errant pitches before throwing three strikes. i expected to get walked. most times i was right, but sometimes i struck out, a spectator with a bat in my hands.  step up to the plate, but don't take any real chances.  it's interesting and a little sad to sit there now in almost idyllic weather, thinking about 11-year old julia watching pitches go by, content to endure whatever fate the pitcher's abilities dealt.

here i am 16 years later, trying for something more, and knowing my satisfaction in this pursuit will be directly related to my willingness to swing and swing hard, whether or not i connect--i can't expect any of this to be given to me.

"a creative life involves great swathes of attention...the quality of life is in proportion, always, to the capacity for delight. the capacity for delight is the gift of paying attention...the reward for attention is always healing." -the artists way, julia cameron p. 52-53

and yet so much is given. some trees beg to be climbed, branches sprawled out like an invitation. i watched a 20-something kid, unable to resist this tree's allure. he laughed, occasional glances down at his girlfriend below, as he searched for another foothold. he seemed alive with childness, to borrow a phrase from emma lou thayne--equal parts awe and delight--no plans to come down, but well aware he was up up up with plans only of higher, each vantage point promising new eyes with a little more effort. 

so many serious thoughts from a girl with cutesy socks on. it hardly ever stays serious for too long around here. here are some things i do when i'm not in pursuit of lofty goals. spend too many hours designing my favorite nike id kyrie irving shoes (which ones do you like the best??), draw things on the church program while listening to harry potter in the car,  and read mary oliver poems. 

utah jazz inspired

“I Go Down To The Shore

I go down to the shore in the morning
and depending on the hour the waves
are rolling in or moving out,
and I say, oh, I am miserable,
what shall—
what should I do? And the sea says
in its lovely voice:
Excuse me, I have work to do.” 

― Mary Oliver, A Thousand Mornings

thanks for the new eyes, sea.