Home is always where i am at the moment.
Then back to a routine. Wake up (no more early, summer-shiny mornings here in Massachusetts) make the coffee, pick up my pen and paper, drink three cups of that caffeine and sugary cream… it feels like a new beginning today. Everyday is technically a new beginning. But today is special. This trip to Iceland, has not even been over for 24 hours and the repercussions are over flowing.
I am grateful to come back to beauty. My yard is invigorating. I am settled here. This is home.
I am planning my day. First, picking up Louie… oh my! Cannot wait for his kisses. Then do my grocery shopping, finish unpacking, do laundry and decide how i spend my dearest time left in Massachusetts. There are numerous job opportunities i could pursue. And there is my writing, quilting, painting, photography that awaits. My projects are numerous. I am running in so many directions. I need a plan of action.
I wrote a few poems on the plane as i headed towards Boston… i would fall asleep to a new song i just love “ Your Ghost” by an Icelandic artist Axel Flovent (link below). He also performs traditional music. It was the only song i listened to for five hours going to Iceland and for five hours coming back to the states. The lyrics are beautiful and the music is soothing. While listening, i would wake up with words to write. I look forward to sharing those poems soon.
Or maybe i have changed. In more ways than the inner the peace i feel. Maybe i stop the rush. The urge to post emphatically. And i save the creations and share them in a chapbook. About Iceland. About love. About life. About us.
For now, i “Save the Words” to be savored. Let them be felt in your hand and caressed. Will they be like scratchy wool or silken sheets? Suppose it would depend how you are experiencing the world. Me? How am I experiencing the people around me? Quizzically. Too many are spouting their significance when none of us are significant while being bravely unique.
To this i say, i am learning to be happy while still realizing my creative work is a progress. I, myself, mentally am a piece of art. Formed and fashioned. Years of sorrow kept me hardened but today i am receptive to the sun. I no longer hide from the day but courageously face the good and bad that surrounds.