So, I’m off for a small space of time, headed into the dark sky desert for a meditation retreat.
The stars, the sky, the planets are so beautiful right now. When night falls, Venus rules the western sky, brighter now than could be credibly described. When I wake up at 5 in the morning, Orion is glittering in her place. Everything is very clear, and dry, and many creatures have tucked up for winter, or are making preparations.
Venus is the middle light in this photo, just a bit left of center in the dark sky. And this, in the middle of the city, in a brightly lit parking lot. In the dark of my yard, she casts Venus-shadows.
A raven flew over the house again this morning, and called out as he passed, one long, lovely Grrronnnk. I didn’t see him, because I was under the trees in the garden, but I heard him, and I felt him, and it made me glad.
I’ve been preparing for not only this weekend, which could be intense, but also for being gone for a month, and going completely digital with the book. I still have a dining room table covered with beadwork, ready to pack up and mail home. It’s been a huge job, getting it all shot and shot right. I mean, it’s easy enough to get things photographed, but harder to take the time to get to know the work and make sure I captured it. Some pieces, I had to wait until I saw the little fox or weasel or frog or spider appear; most of the beadworked pieces seem to have spirit animals.
This sounds silly, but actually kind of isn’t.
It occurred to me yesterday that I will be gone long enough that I need to winterproof my house before I go. I have to say goodbye to the plants, to the birds; many creatures and moments I see today will be gone, underground, sleeping or dead, when I return. I could as easily be saying goodbye for ever as for a month; things like that are difficult for me to parse. Every time I say goodbye, I try to mean it.
I miss Orangelina, and hope to see her again in Spring. One of her sons with Mr. L & L is still above-ground, in her Lurk, coming out to protest each morning when I water the vine.
I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and working, getting ready for all that’s coming. I’ve had a couple of surprising things happen recently with Contemporary Geometric Beadwork, some good, some difficult, and that’s nothing new for this or any project I’ve ever done. People seem to have a variety of strong opinions on things- for example, whether or not I am free to declare that my ideas are not, in fact, my intellectual property because I say that they are not.
I think about these things sometimes, but not very much, because they don’t seem very important unless someone is actively bothering me about them. It seems more important to try to give more ideas away, which is one of the things I’ve promised myself to think about under the stars, the sky, out of time.
I’d like to come to every conversation with the mindset of, “How can I help?”