I had a wonderful 17 days wandering around and having adventures with Will.
I came home, had a whirlwind-back-at-work 4th of July weekend and week after before heading out to Colorado for my grandmother’s postponed memorial and ashes scattering.
I’d never scattered any ashes before.
My grandmother had a computer. It was large and boxy and took up half of the room I used to sleep in with the water bed. She used it to write, as I often use mine to. She never had to use her computer to work.
Whether I’m writing or working or having fun with art, most of the time it’s at the computer. And it’s hard to work at the computer all day, every day. It was hard to come back to a life like that after walking for 6+ hours a day and exploring and swimming when I felt like it.
I love this website and my others, but it’s hard. Coming home I began to second-guess choices that I’ve made.
Why am I not earning my living as a modern artist? A sculpter? A topiarist? Why did I pick a career where I’m stuck working on the computer all day? Why do I love blogging and value it as a goal so much that it takes over many minutes that could be spent in the glorious sun?
Why was I not born wealthy enough to just create art all day? And–at the same time–why am I so much more fortunate than others?
These are the questions and second-guessings that have plagued me these past few weeks as I’ve ignored this, my favorite of all websites. I have so much to share, I could blog all day every day. But maybe–if I had my druthers–that’s not actually what I’d do. Only what I think I’d do. I don’t have my druthers, and we may never know.
And this is my life.
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