THROWING THE CARDS IN THE AIR

I'm not known for being in the doldrums too long. My beloved sister-in-law, who passed over in May, taught me to move furniture when stagnation arrives which accomplishes numerous objectives.

1. Everything gets sorted (old piles of papers, magazines, notes to myself).
2. Dust bunnies emerge from hiding and are dispatched tout suite!
3. New vision entering a room.
4. Old non-productive patterns banished.
5. Sense of accomplishment.
6. Vacuum bag is emptied out.
7. A lovely sense of "what next" arrives.
8. Re-discovery of old great ideas.
9. My grandson gets more space.

In this case not only did we move furniture, we painted our whole bedroom (well, not that big, really) in a weekend. The color is a nurturing gold. My granddaughter noted, "Isn't yellow supposed to be for creativity?"

In line with #8 above, I came across the paint sample I saved from two years ago when I was contemplating painting my office: gold!

We needed to sleep out in our newly-completed studio room (bigger than our bedroom) on a hide-a-bed while the paint vapors dissipated. The mattress sucked. So, we moved our wonderful queen bed out there, and now I've moved my office into our former bedroom. Voila...access to the bathroom, kitchen, laundry room and front door. And the bay windows open to huge trees and bushes, and the front driveway, in case somebody shows up.

My brother used to trick me a lot when I was a little kid; he was eight years older. He'd sashay into the living room while was I was making card houses and say, "Wanna play cowboys and Indians?" I always wanted his attention and would enthusiastically agree. He'd take the deck, get it all tidy, and say, "Now, you're the cowboy." Then he'd toss the deck across our living room floor, "and there's the Indians. Now round them all up!" And Off he'd go. I fell for it numerous times in my innocence.

But moving from my office into cardboard boxes and walking the 50 feet into the new office felt like that: all the cards in the air, see how they fall down. This morning sorting and tossing has led me to yet another plan to get my book "out there," outreach to some old friends, and begin typing up a new set of poems entitled the "Selway Series" from our recent camping trip.

Best of all, I am creating in a room devoid of a sleeping body (19-year olds need as much sleep as newborns apparently), and it's bright, even in the morning. I'm happy to imagine a winter here putting together more poems and short stories, and manifesting that precious sense of living on the edge that true creativity engenders.