Heritage Award for preservation of Veteran

Sunshine is pushing against the two windows in the kitchen. The furnace sounds like the ocean during a storm. Air moving through the space where I am sitting is both cold and warm. Breezes of technology brushing across and under me. I awoke with an incipient migraine and my head full of lists.

As Pema Chondra recommends that we “keep out seat” and stay in a neutral place between manic and depressive, I am aware of the error of my ways. Work…businesses…running out of time. These adrenalized issues are once again playing out in my life.

I awake already two days behind. I have promised myself out to so many people. When I hear that a fellow artist needs publicity or help, I am triggered and attempt to help.

Currently I am finishing a CD jacket which promises to be very lovely and will be reflecting of the beautiful meditative compositions that Vernon multi-talented artist Devon Muhlert has written. But I have difficulty finding time to complete the project. The upcoming show for SOPA gallery called Under 8 is pressing and I have images to paint for that. Tuesday I have to prepare a presentation for the Central Okanagan Photographers’ lecture of Images of Europe.

Images of Europe show coming up Tuesday

I was attending the Okanagan Institute Board meetings until the projects just started piling up and I didn’t have the time. Artists@Work First Thursday Art Crawl needs to be organized more tightly for upcoming times when the tourists will appear like rescuers from our winter doldrums.

My neighbours Ray and Sarah Lewis have in essence carried the North End Resident’s Association on their already over burdened backs for the past three years, so I have stepped in to serve as the President this coming year. There is much to do.

Three other amazing artists will be part of the group show in Vienna, Austria in May and I have the graphics and conceptual statement to complete for that.

But it is strange how just when I think I am about to go mad with constant work, an opportunity opens up.

After the Central Okanagan Heritage Society presented our block, 500 Okanagan Boulevard, with a heritage award for maintaining the vets houses in such good repair, Cameron and I were dead tired and driving around. “Let’s go pick up food,” I suggested. We ended up doing something we haven’t done in over six months… we went out to dinner. The two of us sat alone at Yamato’s Restaurant under the four foot round string encased lights reminiscent of 60’s decor and the Japanese paper lanterns. We were across from one another at the acid green formica tables and had nothing to do but look at one another. I could feel the rhythm of my body set for scrimmage action: running without protective gear through the barriers of the day. I could see my mind flashing through the lists of things yet undone. I could step back and see how depleted I had become.
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And Cameron was across from me. For the first time in months he didn’t have a computer in front of his face. Hey. He has eyes. He has really nice eyes. I think I could love this man. Yep!

So trusting that all will get done is work that I need to do. I even see that as work. Blocking in time to do nothing is important. Taking time to have dinner with my dear friend Lil, last night I got another chance to just sit and get grounded by the presence of another voice. Not just the voice in my head like the overseer of the one man crew of my body. The voice whipping me on to do yet more.

Learning to move from a place of love and security instead of a place of anxiety is what my lesson is. Learning to discipline myself to not spend money or put both my hands in the sugar bowl, figuratively speaking, when I feel anxious is my lesson.

But today. I sit here in my soft yellow bathrobe with my hair sticking up. The sun is knocking at two windows. The air is moving across me and it sounds like the beach. I will begin my projects and they will be completed. I will plan my journey to Vienna, my show for Artscape at the Kelowna Community Theatre, my drawing for the Okanagan Erotic Art Show, my lecture for COPS, my works for Sopa knowing that the universe supports me and that all will go well.

The idea that there will be a stopping point is both real and delusional. Now is the stopping point. The mind says, “When you finish this……” The promising mind entices me into the future. There is a stopping point and it is called death. And now. Pause.

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