I have every desire to write but not a clue what exactly it is I want to say. I have been thinking about writing for weeks now, especially with so much happening and changing. So many things to say but not a clue about how to begin or where to go with these thoughts and ideas.
What I will say though is that with this decision to move back home, to Edmonton, and being back for almost two weeks now, I have never felt more calm or content. Seems natural and just the right thing to do. My drive and inspiration are not like they were in Montreal, as I expected it would be, but are still ever present and keep me going through each day. What also keeps me going is the sheer joy I get from spending time with the people I love the most. Truthfully, I have been so busy that time is certainly not of the essence for meandering with friends over coffee or wine but because my life is so ingrained in all that makes up life (work, commitments, etc), I still get to relish in the connections I have within these confines of responsibility and such.
I dream of colour and art and paint and people. It's intoxicating and motivating. All I ever think about is art and what I'm working on or what will come next. This is a wondrous feeling. A lot like falling in love I'm sure.
This is my life and I am thankful for it.
The whisperings, whirlings, wonderings, and writings of a dreamer, a dancer, a drawer and a darling.
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