It’s been a pretty great week here. Bo’s sleeping is awful so the early hours of the morning are not a good time in our house, they are not my proudest moments… but the daylight hours have been well spent. I’ve been working turning trash into treasure. Sanding and painting and pottering around our home. Turning it into our own.
We went for road trips with friends for ice creams and pub lunches. We spent afternoons at the park in the winter sun and danced in the warmth of our lounge room in front of the fire. We cooked treats and had noodle picnics in front of the TV. We went foraging for forgotten fruits and flowers… What did you get up to?
I’m working full time at the moment, as of yesterday and for the next week. It will be the longest stretch of days that Bo and I have ever spent apart. We will still have our evenings (and our early morning hours of uuguh) but it will be weird for me to be away from her for so many days. To not be a part of her every day. She will be spending part time at daycare and my mother will have her for a couple of days in the middle of the week so she has some one on one time. I’m so grateful for the beautiful staff at the daycare centre that Bo attends. They are so good with her, and it makes me so happy that she is so cared for by other people.
I used to be very ingrained in the performing arts world, but I became so drained by it. By the constant competition. By the fight for the part. By the auditions and the rejection and the ego. So I walked away from it, in one of the biggest decisions of my life. It’s only in the past few months that I’ve started watching live art again. That I’ve allowed the words of spoken word poetry to wash over me. That I’ve taken notice of what my beautiful friends who still work and live in that parallel world, to actually see what it is they are creating and sharing and exploring. The art that they are making. It’s inspiring. And for the first time in years I miss it. For the first time in years, I am inspired again by what we did and do and create. I sat down this week and read some of the plays I wrote, some of the short films I penned, the stories that poured out of my. Some are juvenile in hindsight, others terribly angsty, some deep and dark and others quirky and full of a playful joy that I forgot once possessed me. Before all the heart break and the mess of my early adult years.
We are constantly learning and loving and rediscovering ourselves, time and time again. This week I’ve discovered that a part of me that I thoguht was gone is actually still there, alive and well, buried deep under responsibility and heart ache and lost loves. But it’s there. Just biding its time. One day, it might come up for air once more.
On the topic of spoken word poetry and the power of visual art. Have you seen this awesome piece? It’s been floating around social media this week and I found it raw and inspiring and pretty awesome. You should check it out.
Have a beautiful weekend beautiful people.