5 am: walking down the stairs tailing the parade of dog cat, anxiety and fear drop in and rush me to fix. Fix now. The urge is … not an urge really but more like a spasm of the unknown. Fill it now. figures add up and I expect to have the answer – now – the instant the fear grips me. Alone, slow, sick, aging… all things dropped into the sink water – drain it now. Get rid of this fear and anxiety of falling… falling alone…falling unnoticed…soundless…as the world skips on.
That all before my morning coffee and the pet’s bowls are filled with breakfast.
Fueled by a weekend of emptying your studio. Washing the dirt off your unfinished paintings. Very Mary Magddlen. Holy… empty space.
All the white aware of my limitations of energy and stamina. Drooping muscles…flabby arms…unable to move, dance, with fear of loosing a day.
When did my body become a stranger wrestling me to the ground. Each day is a match. Round 1 Morning. Round 2 Afternoon… Round 3 the inevitable eventing…
A cool day out. Time to start the day… what will i choose….