The intense dry heat of June in New Mexico brought longing for June in Maine this morning. I ache for Earl Grey tea in the fog on the deck of the Inn on the Harbor in Stonington. My longing brought me to visit this post. How amazing to be able to visit moments of your very own life when you're longing for what you want. I was surprised by what I wrote there about movement, "It is only movement that closes the gap. Ugly, awkward, lovely movement." I was talking about the gap between idea and form at the time, be it the written word or an image on a page.
It was before I started or even knew about the yoga therapy program or really thought much about movement at all. Now I have 85 faces drawn or painted after avoiding them for most of my life. Who knew that the daring that morning of drawing the harbor when I hadn't drawn anything for so long and the fear of not being any good yet moving anyway would bring me here? I guess I did, somehow.
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