The Art Of My Soul

Here's a little picture which hangs in my kitchen by the doorway leading outside. I've had it for so many years that I forget to see it. Do you know what I mean? My friend Sue, who died in 1995, I think, gave it to me so I've had it for at least thirty years but I'm sure more, as she was not up to shopping the last few years of her life. 
A little while ago though, I was in the kitchen and for some reason my eye went to it. It's quite a small picture and it's been a very long time since I've really studied it. I know nothing about it. It probably came from a thrift store, or some funky shop. There are no markings on it at all. It hangs by way of a piece of roughly knotted twine and is painted directly on that piece of particle board. 

I cannot imagine living in a place where this little picture does not live too. I may not think about it every day but when I do, it charms me, I am glad to have it with me, a sort of totem from Sue. 

The sun finally came out today. We got a good amount of rain in the past five gray, drizzly days. Everything looks so much happier. It's chillier today than it has been, although the bright sun made it feel less grimly cold. I went out to garden to pick salad greens and Maurice followed me out, as she does. 

Later I found her on the little love seat in the library, nestled among the pillows and the throw, guarded by the two big bears who who live there.

Either she's been in another fight or else she just has a permanent scar on her nose. Or both. It's a hard job, protecting the homestead from intruders looking to take over her food bowl, her treats, her cozy napping spots, her own humans. 

Today has been very quiet. Mr. Moon left to go back up to the cabin. Something about the roof and also, he is going to paint our bedroom. He brought home a million color paint sample thing and after comparing at least three of the colors to the rug we bought for that room and which is still wrapped up in our library, we decided that sea mist was the color we needed. I cannot tell you how deeply uninterested I am in what color that bedroom will be but somewhere in my heart, I am still holding forth hope that there will be a turning point for me in which I can open my soul and my mind to the idea of spending time there and if that does happen, I think sea mist would be a fine color for the bedroom walls. 

At this point in time, however, it feels like...whatever. 
But I helped the man pack up soup and I made him a salad of greens and gave him a piece of goat cheese to go on the focaccia I made last night so that he will not be hungry. I really did not think the soup was very good at all but he seemed to like it okay. The best part of the meal was the bread and goat cheese and spicy greens, dressed with olive oil and balsamic vinegar, mustard, garlic, salt and pepper. 
Look how beautiful these greens are. 

And this is at least one good reason to live in North Florida- we can eat these greens from November through March. Maybe April. 

So I did that and off he went. I took the trash and stopped at the post office where yet another pair of Levi's were waiting for me. I now have four pairs of Levi's. One the ancient pair I'm still patching, one pair from Costco, and two pairs ordered directly from Levi. Two of the pairs are men's jeans, two are women's. 
I think it is obvious I have been missing wearing jeans. And for some reason, the only ones I want are Levi's, which of course are real jeans, not to be confused with other jeans which are only pretenders. 

This is merely the opinion of an old hippie lady.

I did some sweeping and dusting and even straightened out my closet a bit. Mostly just shoes, finding them and pairing them neatly, cleaning the dust off those which needed that. I swept the closet too which was, if not knee deep in dust, at least in great need of dust removal. I also got out all the leather things I wanted to clean and condition. Two purses, including the red one, a pair of shoes I'm going to give to May, and my boots which I have not worn in years. The shoes I'm giving to May are black platforms, simple, beautiful, and never out of style. I fear that wearing them myself might be a bit dangerous. I used to be able to trot about and even dance for hours wearing them but things have changed. I can absolutely see myself twisting or breaking an ankle or taking a tumble and breaking something else. 
I have been talking about aging a lot, haven't I? 

So I did those few things and I sat down at the piano for a little while and I enjoyed that although, as always, I despair at my feeble, sad attempts to even hit the right notes but when I do, I am happy and when I don't, it's not that bothersome. At this point in time, I am certain that "concert pianist" or even "Children's Sunday School pianist" is not a career option for me. 

Thank god. It's all for fun and all for my very own enjoyment and that is that. 

I actually made a nice, large salad today with some of the greens I'd picked, canned white beans, peppers, cucumbers, red onion, and cherry tomatoes. 

Now if that's not a truly life-affirming salad, I don't know what is and yet, it held very little interest for me. 
I've not felt much like eating the past few days which I am fairly sure is due to what I am calling "kidney stone gastritis." It's not the Zepbound because I haven't changed my dosage and as I said, it's just been the past few days. But I've been having the same symptoms that always accompany a dancing kidney stone and the whole stomach/appetite thing is one of them. 

I am very glad that I've got an appointment with a different urologist in early January to see what he has to say about all of this. I can live with it but if I don't have to, I'd rather not. And of course, there is no perfect remedy and if there's one thing I know, it's that any process which rids the body of kidney stones is neither painless or easy. 

Tomorrow is pottery- the last class of this session. My aim is to finish glazing my poor, vastly imperfect flower bowl. There won't be time for anything else. And so it goes. I wonder if my fish spoon rest is out of the kiln. We shall see. 

One other thing I did today was to water the porch plants. Some of them looked so beautiful to me, especially in the sunshine. 

Pineapple plant, grown from cutting the crown of a whole pineapple and sticking it into the dirt. 

The banyon I was certain had died last winter. 

Here's another picture from my kitchen. 

My kitchen hutch with cards that beloveds have sent to me. 
I believe that a house can be an art gallery of sorts. 

In fact, a life can be a gallery of art filled with every sort of pictures, paintings, photos, found objects, glass art, plant art, food and cooking art, textile art,

 folk art, 

and especially...child art. 

The things that make our hearts happy, that have deep meaning for us- these are the things I want to surround myself with and, over the years, have. 

That is definitely enough for tonight. 

Love...Ms. Moon