I unloaded the dishwasher.
I loaded the dishwasher.
I changed the table linens and folded the napkins fetched from the dryer:
pattern/fold/pattern/fold/pattern/fold: these napkins are the most colorful fabrics I own.
I broke apart my New Year's bouquet, re-arranging the flowers and greens into smaller glasses on the table. The mums match my tablecloth, the new one.
People say they like it but I think it is too busy and bright and I like my worn blue & white tapestry the best.
Some things that never change.
Those are my favorite things...
I got a letter.
no, it was an email.
no, well...
it felt like a letter. from a friend.
She said I should make things again. She said that I live my life in a way/as a maker, maybe folding the napkins and cooking dinner and moving through the world as I do is enough
and that would be enough for her.
shit.
Overturned my rock and there I am clinging to the moss.
I like the green and soft and wet and cold and dark but it isn't a good hiding place.
Or it's just no good to hide, to try to be something that doesn't change.
