What am I re-remembering?
The me of 1970-something. The me who couldn't wait to make a painting, work on a new project, see a new idea move from thought to form. But, I am also re-remembering that one who didn't have an appreciation for life, who was so immature she thought that life owed her something.
Life owes me nothing. I owe everything to life and to the source of my life: God.
Now, I'm not waxing all religious at you now because my concept of who/or what/or how God lives and moves within me has changed. But, I know that as surely as I breath right now that the spirit of love and life and enthusiasm burns more brightly in me than it ever did in my twenty year-old body and soul.
Maybe I'm just more aware of it now and the fleetingness of time and my relative insignificance and magnificence in the whole warp and weft of my time here on this fragile planet.
And, I am pleased to be in this also increasingly fragile body that holds hope and love and dreams within its walls.
Life is what it is.
And, I must get to bed so I can start another day of painting tomorrow!
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