A few years ago I followed the plaintiff cries of an artist in New Orleans. He evacuated after Katrina and was never able to return. I read his words but had no grasp of the scope of the devastation to his psyche.
I get it now.
The contractor employed to make major repairs to walls and doors disappeared after the dry walling was almost complete. He explained that he can't finish until it is warm enough to paint. It has been a very cold through to March and so we have no idea when the work will be complete.
Occasionally during the winter I have gone downstairs and tried to make some sense of the mess. I came back up saddened and overwhelmed at each foray. Today I got the courage to begin setting up an area to begin again. My very new easel warped after the flood, I will have to see if it can be salvaged. The beautiful roll of large canvas my son gifted me with on my birthday has dried sufficiently. I found tubes of paint here and there and it will be a beginning.
As I stood in the space arranging supplies, a fellow artist called to inquire about the state of my affairs and invite me to create with her one day soon. That was a call inspired by my higher power. I needed to come out of isolation and begin again. Before I went down to work I meditated awhile and asked for divine intervention. I guess it really worked.
I feel better now that I have begun again.
