For me, nothing could be further from the truth. I want to like November, the beginning of the holiday season, a chill in the air, the big feast day. But inevitably, every November I am smacked with an illness right in the middle of my two biggest shows of the year, and I end up struggling through my shows with a smile plastered across my grayed face and ending my season feeling drained instead of pleasantly full.
And this year is no different except that instead of a cold or flu, I ended up in the ER with surgery in a couple of weeks. It doesn't matter what happened, that's my personal life. But the real downside, besides the pain of course, is that I've been laid up for a week, unable to hold a pen or pencil long enough to even capture one little sketch. Those that know me know that I am not one who enjoys sitting around doing nothing!
So regretfully, I've resorted to a few entries from past sketchbooks along with some notations. The most I've been able to do this week is watch the birds, and I'll admit, it's been a glorious parade culminating in the return of my hawk. I have no idea if it's the same bird but I like to think so. This guy is so bold. I could stand right at the window, not three feet away from him and he looked straight at me with those piercing eyes, went back to pruning and eventually did an Arnold impersonation insinuating, "I'll be back!"
The Virginia Creeper is now a dusky red running garlands up and down the neighboring trees, and my pyracantha has put out its lovely Christmas-red berries that will delight the birds throughout the season. I managed to make one brief trip outside for a bit of air and poked under a log in the back of the lot finding slugs huddled together liked sleeping children on Christmas Eve. Creepy how my mind works I guess but I found them enchanting, so vulnerable to what could be. But I replaced their wooden blanket and wished them well.
So if you'll excuse me now, back to the couch for me with Joni Mitchell and a good book for the afternoon.
"The Universe is full of magical things, patiently waiting for our wits to grow sharper."
- Eden Phillpotts