Day 122 of Year 2 (Actually Day 123)
Every moment is an open invitation. If I am quiet, I hear my studio calling. So many times and places in my life I felt I did not belong. I think this must be a common feeling for artists. Ours is not the common path. We are lucky though, because we always have a place were we belong without question. The studio is always calling, always inviting us in. It is the place where we are wanted just as we are with faults and imperfections and, where we accept who we really are, beautifully imperfect partners in the pageant of creation.
The Fist
By Mary Oliver
There are days
when the sun goes down
like a fist,
though of course
if you see anything
in the heavens
in this way
you had better get
your eyes checked
or, better, still
your diminished spirit.
The heavens
have no fist,
or wouldn't they have been
shaking it
for a thousand years now,
and even
longer than that,
at the dull, brutish
ways of mankind—
heaven's own
creation?
Instead: such patience!
Such willingness
to let us continue!
To hear,
little by little,
the voices—
only, so far, in
pockets of the world—
suggesting
the possibilities
of peace?
Keep looking.
Behold, how the fist opens
with invitation.
From Thirst https://amzn.to/2O69o4m
