I pulled out the fleece-y skeleton blanket today, so the cat and I are in the living room, comfy on the couch and in the midst of clutter. I started rearranging and finalizing our bedroom last month, and I’ve moved on to the kitchen. Inspiration is slow to strike, and the boxes of tea and dishes and cookbooks have yet to annoy. I dropped off another carload of items to the new studio - a warping board, shuttles and bobbins, reeds, and boxes of my samples. I am re-learning sustained attention, and today is my first day practicing it in a long while (for my own work and practice). It is easier to work for someone else, justifying their needs above mine, an external drive to check off and fulfill. The work for myself seems unimportant and hard. It has been years since I’ve poured my all into myself, and maybe I am a little scared to go that deep again.

But I’ve made a promise, and found a space to match. The discipline for taking responsibility is what keeps me moving forward.