A nice sense of peace fills me today and it is most welcome. I guess all that meditation pays off in time. I know it comes and goes, so I appreciate while it’s here, as if it were some sort of fond ghost.
Had a lovely time yesterday with the women in the fambly: we brunched at Gadsby’s Tavern, a historical inn, which reminded me very much of The Olde Pink House in Savannah, GA — then we went to see Oliver at the Little Theater of Alexandria, which was done very comically, very darkly, very well.
I’m going to try to see it this weekend, we’ll see if I can make that happen? I just added it to my Netflix queue, but the “DVD availability date is unknown” —
Ever since I was little and we would go out into the country to my father’s farm, where we would still find arrowheads and pottery pieces, where we would frequently visit the Etowah Indian Museum — I’ve had a deep appreciation for the Native American. I’ve gone into this in-depth in my first and second novels as an inspiration for my love of Nature.
I saw a beautiful hawk flying over head while Chipper and I were walking. It didn’t look real, it was so full of light. I have a poem somewhere about seeing a hawk and totally being inspired by the faun shades of its feathers, so incredibly powerful and soft at once.
I have a quick change to a friend’s website and then I’m back to the pastel. Hope to finish it today — yay! Not sure what I’ll start on next.