The fog today was inspiring. I used to love East Asian watercolors and Japanese Ukiyo-E prints that showed distance with faded colors. This morning’s weather looked a lot like that. Trees appeared as dark tears in the world while buildings emerged suddenly, foreboding behemoths.
The anger and discomfort of the last few days is fading, and quotidian things take over. Chop wood and carry water, a ghost once told me. He was right. Though the abyss still looms large now and again, observing changes in the world around me and doing things like cooking dinner bring me moments of joy and love to leap across it.
I started the second more square rag rug, though the first isn’t finished, because there are things afoot here, and our forays into flooring have led to more intensive plans than plopping down some pad and vinyl. If we end up with a loud floor, I guess my beautiful sun rug will be go up for sale, and it already represents more time than most people would like to pay for.