Blog

Re-entry

A selection of paintings from the collaborative project my kids and I played with over the summer.

A selection of paintings from the collaborative project my kids and I played with over the summer.

Re-entry is perhaps the most terrifying and low-tech part (of space travel).

I listened to and then watched The Martian recently. I suppose that’s why I’m likening my return to the blog and newsletter after a summer break to space travel. If one spends enough time comparing the two I am certain that there can be several connections made as can be done when comparing almost any two things with that goal in mind. I’m not going to waste my time doing that, I have better things to do, like paint, and write. However I will say the re-entry process even in this instance feels very terrifying and is indeed very low-tech (it amounts to me sitting my ass down, finding some words and sharing them). 

It was a lovely summer with lots of time with the kids, our partnership in a collaborative project and lots of time for exploring needlework and opportunity for introspection for me.

My last post was June 17, I just went to look. It was titled “On What We Want To Say”. This cracks me up because this is exactly the question I have spent the summer mulling over and over. The very question I spent attempting to gain clarity on. 

I spent the entire summer exploring this while painting with the kids and stitching needlepoint and filling my time wondering what it was I wanted to “say” through my work(aka my paintings) while I was actually “speaking” each time I made something. 

I concluded my summer attending and teaching at Camp Good Life Project (one of my favorite weekends each year). One afternoon I sat in on Jeff Goins’ course which explored finding your purpose in life. Going in we were asked what we wanted out of the class and I stated clarity. 75 minutes later as he shared what is one of his “secrets” a slide popped up that read “Don’t wait for clarity.” 

“Well Shit”, I thought.

Another went on to share “Clarity comes through action.”

“Phew, there’s hope”, was my immediate reaction.

I’m not sure I have a conclusion to this post, it’s a rambling of sorts. If I had to choose one I would probably wrap with something along the lines of “there is always hope” or that “through your actions you are always talking even if you’re not using words”.

The good thing is I don’t need to. I can just chalk today’s post off to re-entry.  The terrifying part is over. I took some action. If I pay attention I will likely gain some clarity from it.