The world is shifting……
I can feel it. Can you? Maybe it’s only shifting here in Indiana. Maybe only on my block of St. Clair Street. But it is shifting. I feel old urges coming back. I want to write again. Really write. I want to create. Artist and Writer. Me. Now. Got an email from someone yesterday about a crafter and artist co-op opportunity nearby. I spoke with the director today and have an appointment to meet with her next Saturday and bring some of my work. I’m very excited. I would have to work two days a week, and pay a commision on my sales, but they have four classrooms that come in the deal, and no commission on classes I would teach. I will take my hand poured candles, a couple of hand bound journals, some collage/altered art. I will finally use my certification to teach personal journaling if this works out. They are teaching a memoir class right now for 60+ women to preserve family stories. I tossed the journaling class angle today. The director loved it. Cross your fingers they accept me. It won’t solve all my problems, or by any means support us financially, but it will put a little passion back into my life. Give me something to strive for, work at. I so need to do something I care about.
I found a permanent home for one of the cocker spaniels I took in. He’s going to a home with four children. He loves kids. He loves attention. Should be a perfect fit. I am proud. I need to get back into the poetry scene to make my writing dreams work. I’ve ordered the poet’s market, and done some googling this evening.
The ad’s in the paper. And I keep sending those resumes. Whichever pans out first is the immediate plan of action, with cubicle employment as the the term plan. I’m ordering up something mindless that I can leave in the cube at the end of the day, with a nice lunch hour to myself for reading or writing. That would leave my evenings, at least those parts of it between dance and soccer and guitar, to pursue my dreams. It’s nice to be dreaming again.
