I was having a rough day.  Winter was weighing on me and I was beyond sleep-deprived.  But I had to get out of the house, so I headed over to the one block long main drag of my neighbourhood.  The thrift store and veggie market were visited.  In the stationary store I was floored to see a display of Sabrina Ward Harrison’s new products with Papaya.  I’d drooled over them online, but never expected to stuble across them in person.  Gorgeous art journals and two different sizes of wall canvases.  At the exact moment that this caught my eye, the Weepies came on the store stereo.  It was one of those moments that just seemed rather perfect. 

I knew I’d treat myself to one of the art journals.  They were so beautiful, two of them drawing me most because of their luscious Sabrina-style art.  Their messages “make believe” and “choose your own adventure” called to the kid in me but I kept on returning to another journal much less fancy carrying a message “its all secretly perfect”.  I’m all about choosing my own adventure and make believe, but those other four words spoke to me in a way I really need right here and now.  So it came home with me. 

The pages are gorgeous thick and ready to make art on, which is what this has become.  I have a separate book for writing (a gorgeous new one handmade by a talented friend just came in the mail, but that’s a post of its own right).

A short while after that moment in the store, I came across a twitter post about a Sabrina Ward Harrison retreat in Seattle.  I hadn’t signed up for any other art retreats for this year, partially because I want to stay nearer to home and lil’ ladybug but also because traveling across the country to art retreats can get pricey and I need to work to build up my “adventure fund”. 

This retreat had it all though.  Its near to home and is taught by one of my favourite artists.  Within five minutes of reading about it I had registered and quickly sent off an email to my art-retreat co-adventurer Valerie who was also jumped right into going to this retreat.  Its gotten even better since, as I found out a friend I met at Squam, Elizabeth, will be there too.

Trusting that its all secretly perfect is kind of hard to do.  I’ve seen proof though, so I’m ready to believe.  I’ve seen one of the hardest times in my life (going through a depression) transform itself into the most incredible gift of discovering a creative medium I love.  I’ve come to live a life that I really truly do love.   I just need to trust that those pieces that haven’t fallen into place (and sometimes feel like they never will) will happen.  I need to trust that space and the passage of time are not stagnancy, but are laying groundwork.  I need to look a little deeper at what already are shiny bits of a true life. 

I can't help but think that weepies/swh moment and then the discovery of the retreat are some of those already perfect moments, waiting to be noticed.

feeling:

~the lightness of spring

~grateful to have spent the weekend adventuring in vancity with my mom

~excited for this months trip to seattle to celebrate a beautiful mom-to-be

~constantly tired.  thats just the reality of a night-shift post-partum doula

~sore. good sore. from running and biking

~hopeful that what my journal says is true

i asked her if i could take a picture of her hands, adored with all sorts of beautiful bracelets, tuning her violin. the group of us had spent the day @ squam with jonatha brooke sitting around the fireplace talking about woodie guthrie, about songwriting, making music and then singing our creations to the group.  

so as i watched this video that i came across on jen gray's site, the narrator started to be more and more familiar to me and i realized i'd met catrina.  i found her to be such a vibrant person and was really moved by learning her story today.

i very much encourage you to watch the video, which is entered into the 2010 Neuro Film Festival and to vote for her here if you feel so inclined!  

Everything is Waiting for You

Your great mistake is to act the drama
as if you were alone. As if life
were a progressive and cunning crime
with no witness to the tiny hidden
transgressions. To feel abandoned is to deny
the intimacy of your surroundings. Surely,
even you, at times, have felt the grand array;
the swelling presence, and the chorus, crowding
out your solo voice You must note
the way the soap dish enables you,
or the window latch grants you freedom.
Alertness is the hidden discipline of familiarity.
The stairs are your mentor of things
to come, the doors have always been there
to frighten you and invite you,
and the tiny speaker in the phone
is your dream-ladder to divinity.

Put down the weight of your aloneness and ease into
the conversation. The kettle is singing
even as it pours you a drink, the cooking pots
have left their arrogant aloofness and
seen the good in you at last. All the birds
and creatures of the world are unutterably
themselves. Everything is waiting for you.

By David Whyte