since we got back, i've just been puttering around in the studio, reflecting on some gems by the one-and-only wendell berry:
There are, it seems, two muses: the Muse of Inspiration, who gives us inarticulate visions and desires, and the Muse of Realization, who returns again and again to say "It is yet more difficult than you thought." This is the muse of form. It may be then that form serves us best when it works as an obstruction, to baffle us and deflect our intended course. It may be that when we no longer know what to do, we have come to our real work and when we no longer know which way to go, we have begun our real journey. The mind that is not baffled is not employed. The impeded stream is the one that sings.
And the world cannot be discovered by a journey of miles, no matter how long, but only by a spiritual journey, a journey of one inch, very arduous and humbling and joyful, by which we arrive at the ground at our own feet, and learn to be at home.
I have always loved a window, especially an open one.
― in Jayber Crow
Don't own so much clutter that you will be relieved to see your house catch fire.
― in Farming: a hand book
good stuff, huh? makes ya' think...
and that's a good thing.
: : karen anne
oh for heaven's sake...why can't i just make a cup of tea without seeing that the strainer has, um,
p-o-s-s-i-b-i-l-i-t-i-e-s? what could it be? (why are you asking me? i just DO this stuff!) now that i've photographed it, it will be dismantled and put back in the drawer from whence it came. serenity will once again reign in my home...(would that my mind would still itself...)
: : karen anne