à nouveau

anew

I’m out of my body and inside my body. The air has a chill to it and the changing sky is moving into grey. It’s funny seeing fuzzy little bees buzz about in the lavender on an overcast day. It feels like an act of defiance. Something true. We are still ‘here’, even when the sun isn’t shining on our flowers.
I have tried to write here, again and again. Over years, in fact. The question of who I am as a thinker, a maker of homes, art, stories and life, is hard to look at squarely. I keep parts of me, everything that came ‘before’ Motherhood, tucked into the edges of the main stage of my days, my weeks, now years… my being. It feels late, but the identity evolution continues. It’s not a crisis, as most often put. It’s a never-ending metamorphosis. It’s very busy and tiring shedding and growing all these new wings. I’m out of my skin and inside my skin.

‘Wearing my thoughts 2’ (2021) - artwork by Yumi Takahashi. My friend, creative confidant and muse. Shared here with permission.