It may seem odd, but in the midst of this upheaval that is so sad and causing so much disruption, some of us still need quiet moments, alone. For me, this is where creativity originates. Every few hours or days I have to take a news break. It's just too much.
Walking has been my solace and source of renewal, but I've had to make a few adjustments. I love that more people are out walking these days, and that they are smiling more and making eye contact, too, but it can also be a bit stressful to be on alert, antennae out, deciding whether to walk in the gutter, the street, up a driveway, or continue on the sidewalk as the approaching person chooses to move first to maintain the six-foot distance.
So I've begun going out very early and bundling up. Even here in northern California it has been forty degrees in the morning. Here's a young jogger running around me. I yield to a dog walker, aware that many a dog has been given a treat for not going in the street. Up the hill across from me is a dad pushing a stroller with a baby in it, a little boy by his side. We get to the same place at the same time, each planning to cross to the other side. "What kind of intersection is this?" asks the dad. "A TEEE!" says the boy. Smiles all around.
And then, miraculously, there are no people. I can begin to cure my daytime insomnia and begin to daydream. The walking gently shakes up the box, reveals items of interest, lets my emotions bubble up from the depths, the subconscious. A moment of lightness, reverie. The daydream zone.
Way back in junior high, we had a unit on dreams and had to keep a dream journal, which got me in the habit of writing down my dreams. I continue the practice, but I don't list all of them, and not every night. Dreams have given me book titles, book structures, whole stories, and visual art. Daydreams have given me poems and phrases as well, similar to night dreams. Day or night, it's like having a personal library or art gallery in my head.
So many times I've heard people ask how to find content for their book art. We carry our content with us. It's portable. We may just need to daydream to find it.
Walking has been my solace and source of renewal, but I've had to make a few adjustments. I love that more people are out walking these days, and that they are smiling more and making eye contact, too, but it can also be a bit stressful to be on alert, antennae out, deciding whether to walk in the gutter, the street, up a driveway, or continue on the sidewalk as the approaching person chooses to move first to maintain the six-foot distance.
So I've begun going out very early and bundling up. Even here in northern California it has been forty degrees in the morning. Here's a young jogger running around me. I yield to a dog walker, aware that many a dog has been given a treat for not going in the street. Up the hill across from me is a dad pushing a stroller with a baby in it, a little boy by his side. We get to the same place at the same time, each planning to cross to the other side. "What kind of intersection is this?" asks the dad. "A TEEE!" says the boy. Smiles all around.
And then, miraculously, there are no people. I can begin to cure my daytime insomnia and begin to daydream. The walking gently shakes up the box, reveals items of interest, lets my emotions bubble up from the depths, the subconscious. A moment of lightness, reverie. The daydream zone.
Way back in junior high, we had a unit on dreams and had to keep a dream journal, which got me in the habit of writing down my dreams. I continue the practice, but I don't list all of them, and not every night. Dreams have given me book titles, book structures, whole stories, and visual art. Daydreams have given me poems and phrases as well, similar to night dreams. Day or night, it's like having a personal library or art gallery in my head.
So many times I've heard people ask how to find content for their book art. We carry our content with us. It's portable. We may just need to daydream to find it.
Stay safe. Be well.
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