So, the thing I've noticed about remaining "artist in residence" is every day feels like a Saturday. Kindah nice. Kindah weird. I feel like I should be doing something, you know ~ the things you put on the list so you can hope-against-hope you can get them done over the weekend so you can start the work week with a clean slate; knowing full well you will be lucky to get one done and two is a miracle. I know you knew . . .
Well, today, I watered my Victory Garden and all my other pots, hung my speakers out the window in my studio this morning to broadcast Andrea Bocelli's concert from the Duomo in Milan (cried through the whole thing), and decided to start washing windows.
While I was deciding to start, I thought I'd go downstairs and make my bed.
And, there it was! My nightstand.
Filthy, disgusting mess does not even begin to describe it. Wrappers, kleenex, dead pens, dead pencils, scraps of paper with very old lists of things to do on them, and DUST. DUST thick enough to be practically soil! With a just little water, potatoes could be planted there. Ugh!
You know it's bad when it takes TIME to clear off your nightstand. I didn't even go through the stuff. Just put it all in a bag to deal with later (I promise).
Dusting. Shining. Polishing. Flowers from the garden. Things I actually use arranged at the ready.
The will to live restored!
Behold! The nightstand!
Every day grateful