I've always been more in love with the idea of hard work than with the actuality.  I imagine Plath pouring over her poems in the early morning (Ted got the afternoon to write), blowing on her hands to keep warm in that drafty house in Devon.  I've romanticised the writing life, of course I have.  There is a paradox I possess; two voices battling.  "Work harder. For Hours.  Daily."  Then the other "Enjoy, be less serious, live your art."

Amidst the guilt and the voices saying it wasn't enough, I worked.  Since not much slips my notice, my perpetually-peeled eyes, I consider this a private and profound victory.  Intentionality, I have plenty of.  What's new is the surprise of enjoying the work so much that it feels absolutely nothing at all like work.



I really think that to keep ones sanity, one really must bring bits of warmth and home into the office.  Thomas Moore just wrote an article that I find (like usual) that I agree with.  He mentions one practical way to remain warm in an age of such cool soul practices is the purchasing of something beautiful in your life to counteract the purchasing of something practical.

 The office needs a bit of work, but it does have a nice green wall and a really rather gorgeous window.  I am determined to have it relect my personality and soul.  I was thinking of how to decorate it, and I realized that books really are the perfect answer. I grabbed my humble collection of Norton Critical Editions and put them up between two of my photographs.

Each of the items I chose has a meaning and reminder.

It says to my career-gal, "Hey sassy...love your little artist self too."

And then...

I do.

~crm

Sidenote.

Don't you wish that when you take over someone's position, they would leave behind a manual of social observations?  I feel like such a rookie freshman this week, not knowing who is who or why I am supposed to know them or how they know each other or what they think of each other...which I know will get better because I am really quick with names and faces, but I've been so tempted to ask my pretasessor for a book entitled, "Office Gossip 2007-2010."

It would appear like any other morning...any she's had for the last 1.5 years.

Waking to a quiet alarm, an internal alarm, the very best alarm.

Putting on a pot of boiling water, poaching two eggs for 3 minutes precisely,

sneaking a cup of Earl Grey from her saint's personal pot.

Showering, writing, cleaning, talking to friends, cooking, caring.

A leisurely existence, for sure...but still...a learned one.

To be home, to be one's own boss...

though amazing, ideal even,

it's a lesson to learn.

It might appear like any other afternoon...

watching an episode (of anything BBC) with him on his lunch break,

sneaking a snooze, chatting on the phone,

loading the dishwasher, planning dinner, sweeping the floor,

nesting.

But today, though likened indeed to many others

is unlike them underneath its surface.

A bookend

A creaking door

A gush of westerly wind

A costume change

Today was the last day she spent at home.

Fulltime work begins tomorrow.

A new adventure begins...the dread subsides...
and shifting into 5th gear
feels smooth and sexy.

But only after a completely ordinary day
unlike any other.

I've had only a few rules.
- Be gentle with myself.
- Set a timer for 30 minutes.



It just feels good to be working.

: solitude :
: physical exertion :
: a schedule :

I am good with the first and the last, now for a nightly Salsa class.
Maybe the saint can build me a dance studio.

I'm not sure which I like more, camping...or the prep work for camping. To many of you this may sound insane, but I derive a great sense of well-being when planning ahead and thinking of little ways to suprise my family with treats.

I am definetly that girl that wants to pull the forgotten rabbit out of my proverbial top hat.

It may look something like this:
Joel: "Aw, Candi, we should have brought blank."
Candace: "I did, dummy! Voila!"

I like to call it
 domestic magic.

Stuffing peaches with butter and brown sugar.  Wrapping them in foil to throw into the coals.

Cutting up watermelon and snatching bites intermittently.

Making rice crispy treats.  I see the saint has also helped here.

Cleaning and taking inventory of all the gear.

It's exhausting work!
(It's also quite nice that we forget how much work it is every year)

Have a great weekend!
We're off tomorrow to get intimate with Mt. Rainier.

I've been kind of waiting for it to go away but since it's lingering, I suppose I shall extract it thus.  This aforementioned it is this gnawing, annoyingly cold-sore-like discontent that keeps distracting me from enjoying my life.  The little bits, the big bits, they both seem to be growing and swirling in the balloon-sized wine glass of my psyche...and the sulfites are giving me a headache.  Ensue rant:

Oh fabulous, fabulous Friday. Today I woke up feeling so much better than yesterday. I had successfully confronted a small part of my journey and awoke with anticipation at my lunch with friends and my previously-scheduled facial.


But there was much more to this momentous day in my personal history. This morning, before I left for lunch, I was sitting at my computer with my coffee when all of a sudden and email pops up from the editor of Antler Magazine(which is a totally wonderful publication in the style of fashion magazine, but featuring artists of every sort). I had sent her a little "look at my blogs" email quite a few months ago, but today I got a positive response back AND, ANNNNDDDD a request to write a few articles!!!!!



I could hardly contain myself. I hadn't been that high on adrenaline since, well...ever really. As I replied to the editor, I realized that this may actually be happening for me. Writing for a living, or writing professionally, or writing at all and being able to put it out there is in every regard a dream come true. Even if I totally botch up the article* and nothing comes from it, I will never forget this day and will always consider it a success!

It feels UNREAL!

So I feel totally pampered in a very real way today. It feels like if this writing thing could be real, then my being laid off in February and the fight for this new lifestyle of staying at home and pursuing my soul's interests will have all made more sense to me. To have the luxury to attend to your soul AND meet success there, shoot...that is the ULTIMATE self-care in my book.

How's your pampering going? Remember, this challenge extends through the weekend until Monday, so keep it up!

~crm

*She mentioned doing an article on the top 5 older (i think she means 'classics') books that readers need to read. I think I'll be okay...:)