Well, geesch. I feel like I have been on a journey even though I haven't been anywhere at all.
I feel like this blog has lost its way. Or perhaps I have lost my way and I have nothing more to say. I am not sure how completely I believe that, but I also must admit I don't completely disbelieve it either. I am tired of how constrained and deeply inside my head my life seems to have gotten over the past few years. I'm sick of it and sometimes sick of myself.
But hey, let's just shake out the cobwebs and see where we are.
A couple of weeks ago now. Garbo and I went to dinner and a jazz concert on Market Square in downtown Knoxville with a friend and her pup. It was a lovely cool evening, perhaps bordering on crisp. The jazz was fabulous. This was really the third or fourth musical performance I had heard this fall, as the Symphony and Opera seasons had also begin and I admit that I have just been revelling in the ability to go out and be enchanted and inspired by live music. I just sat back and enjoyed the flow of music and the happy atmosphere.
In the photo above I am waring one of the three summer dresses I made in May using the same pattern but different fabrics, and it may be my favorite of the three. This one is the least crisp and polished of the three dresses and also the one made of what is, to. my mind, the nicest fabric, a drapes, almost slouchy 90% linen, 10% tightly spun mohair blend. I always thought it might transition well into fall due to its muted color. It was deliciously cool all summer long and it was deliciously comfortable on this chilly evening with boots and a light turtleneck. I might not have done much sewing over the summer, but those dresses have served me well and made me happy.
I am back to snapping odd photos of bits and bobs of things that are meaningless to anyone but myself. Arches.
Bits of roof lines perhaps.
New clothes. (finally) A soft new blue sweatshirt for chilly morning walks with Garbo.
Playing with fabric.
Sunsets.
This isn't a normal blog post. But frankly I am not sure what normal is right now, or even if normalcy is a desirable goal. I just know that I am changing and simultaneously staying the same. Maybe insisting that there is a difference is the illusion. Maybe I didn't know it but this is where I've been heading all along. Does it matter where the path forward leads? What if the familiar has been the radically new all along and we just haven't opened our eyes to it.
All photos by me except the second one, on me and Garbo on Market Square. That photo courtesy of Cynthia Moxley, here
