Your Future is Not Your Past

So, as I was saying in my last blog, which was more than 3 months ago, "Once upon a time… Things were good… and then they weren't." Funny how some passage of time, like a strong wind, can clear away the storm clouds over your head. 

I see again, that life is full of surprises with corners you can't see around with your eyes. I truly was in a panic, the rain was falling, thunder in the distance signaling storm is coming. And there I was falling fast. From hope to the pit of despair, and me without a parachute! 

Today, I am sitting in my new art studio, in a new chair, next to my new easel, with all sorts of new around me. My fears have evaporated into a silver lined cloud of thankfulness and energized hope.

What Happened? Did I sell some artwork? Did my ship come in? Did I win the lottery?

Not really any of those, and yet I do feel like things have gotten better. I mentioned sometime before I was going to move, and that I did. Months of sweat paid off in selling our old house and moving into a new house, in a new place, far away from the familiar of the old into the adventure of the new. I am a happy man, a happy artist, I am just happy.

Now happy can be transitory as are most things on this earth are, but for now it lives here with me.

In our move, my wife and I ran out of time and money and energy. I had discovered muscles that I had not used for decades, and they let me know, I was expecting a lot from them. I think many of them had retired years before I had, and were not happy about being drafted back into active duty. Even, as I type this, the grumpiest of them are still protesting. 

As I was saying, we ran out of everything. In the end running out of time and money was our most serious problem. We ended up having to be out of our house by a certain day (we sold it, as is, to an investor who was going to fix it up and flip it or rent it out). That day came and we still had a lot of things that we couldn't get out before the deadline. So that stuff was just left. Some of what was left behind were, paintings, art supplies and studio furniture. Of all that was left, I miss my paintings the most… In my mind there is hope that someone chose to take them home with them, although I also have thoughts of bulldozers and the local landfill. Spilled milk, I guess… I'll save my tears for something else.