tender

We’re on the swing. The three of us. Feeling – well – kind of tender.

Some days are like this.

And so we get up on the swing. And watch. Up high. Together.

Today I ordered seeds for my garden. And stakes for the tomatoes that I’ll grow. I even researched raspberries.

I’m a little behind. My neighbors have already started seedlings indoors. It’s the beginning of April. I need to catch up!

I can’t tell you how good it feels to be focussed on gardening. Knowing that soon my little seeds will grow into small plants. Which will become bigger plants. Which produce delicious food. Yum. So fun.

When I sit down to do my art, I sometimes think of it in the same way. Planting the seed. Kind of watching it grow even as I am growing it. And then being fed by what I produce.

And yet, it’s so dissimilar.

Whatever’s going on emotionally: THAT shows up in my art. Immediately. Even in how I make my first line.

It’s a measure of how I’m feeling.

Today: tender.

Celebrating tender.