Monday, March 8, 2010

After getting my coffee this morning, I went directly to the studio and began a watercolor painting.  I had spent the weekend watching Nita Engle videos in between naps; that with having puttered around in the studio for several days now seems to have gone a long way towards waking up he artist in me.

And so a new journey begins.

As some of you know, before Howard's health took a nosedive, I was actively painting and doing regular posts on my painting blog, publishing a photo of and recording my thoughts about each work once it was finished.  I think it's time now to revive that blog and transition to it. 

My plan is to give the painting blog a new title and redesign its format, then to move forward with it rather than continuing posts here.  That will take a little time, but you can look for it to be ready in the very near future. To find it go to www.diannemize.blogspot.com
.
Meanwhile, my heartfelt thanks for sharing this journey with us and for your continued love and support. 

Blessings,
Dianne

Saturday, March 6, 2010

Yesterday was popping with activity:  Denyse and her crew came to clean then Brian arrived to get started with our outdoor projects.  Brian is due back today to began demolishing the rabbit building.

And I have begun a new project.  Shortly after Howard's death, Cynthia suggested that I have a book in this blog report.  For several days I've contemplated that and came to the conclusion that she's right, that this blog is a record of a most difficult and most incredible journey and I want it preserved.  So I began copying its entries into a Word file towards eventual publication.

As to how I am doing, I can't say things are getting any easier; on the contrary, new realizations hit me every day.  But what's happening is an on-going depth of acceptance of my reality and an accompanying, gathering peace.  I see Howard everywhere, but these days rather than break into tears, I'm most likely to smile.

Enjoy your Saturday.
Dianne

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

Howard and I believed (and I still do) that we can understand some real truth about what's going on in our innards if we look at our gestures, body language and actions.  One of my mother's formulas was (you're heard it before) "actions speak louder than words;"  that one was among her guidances that stuck.

Yesterday, without planning to do so, I found myself reorganizing, sorting and cleaning one little area after another.  I've never been domestic and that's not what's going on now:  what's really happening is I'm beginning to notice stuff.  For one thing, the fabric lampshade donned by our floor lamp was beginning to come apart and had turned terribly dingy.  I suddenly noticed it and now it's repaired and brilliant white, brightening the lighting considerably.

It's as of scales are falling from my eyes introducing a new and different clarity. 

Have a lovely Wednesday,
Dianne

Monday, March 1, 2010

Yesterday I drove out to one of my favorite rivers and came home with  a hundred photos, a head start toward my diving into my art work.  I have spent recent days reorganizing my studio space and this morning I began drawing in my sketchbook, choosing a new one yet untouched so that it will contain this transition all unto itself. 

And transition it is.  Howard and I always believed true art is not only an expression of who we are, but a reach into something bigger, something that touches where we came from encompassing all that connects us with life.  We are all bigger than we know ourselves to be.

Have a lovely Monday,
Dianne

Friday, February 26, 2010

The depression has lifted.  It was a natural phase of the grieving process and like all the other phases, had to be experienced.  The trick is not to get stuck in any of those phases but to allow them and to experience them so that healing can happen.  There is no place here for denial.

During the past two days, I've been balancing staying in motion with naps and quiet moments.  I have arranged with Brian to get the house's exterior repaired and painted.  Our color will be Valspar's "Mountain Smoke,"  a color very much like the bark on our trees.  In fact, it is the color Howard and I originally chose when we built the house.  At that time the paint contractor messed up, making the color both darker and a bit cooler than we wanted, the final results even after they had corrected their initial screwup.  It ended up being close enough not to be a thorn in the flesh, but now it will be on the money.

I've also taken off the wall my mandolin, cleaned it up and ordered new strings for it.  And my replenishment paints should arrive today:  I suspect soon I'll be picking up a paint brush and begin pushing it.

Enjoy your Friday.
Dianne

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

I have finished reading Howard's Journals.  Early on, one of the first lines she wrote there was "Let journeys be made."  A bit later on she wrote, "One can achieve whatever one is capable of imagining." 

Throughout her illness above all else I experienced an abiding gratitude for being privileged to have made a near thirty-year journey with this amazing human being. Today, I am far more whole, far more capable of living my own life's journey.  It is as if, throughout our years together, my own fragments found unity and all extraneous social impositions melted away, enabling me to become uniquely myself.   And in our talks together, she told me the same was true for her.  Each of us reinforced what was real in the other.  Each of us accepted and loved without exception what was true of the other.

Against all odds, our life together was nothing short of a miracle.  From day one and in spite of  conventional wisdom, we imagined the impossible and moved forward to make it happen.  This morning I look out our study window and find comfort and hope in the penumbra I see. 

Enjoy your Tuesday.
Dianne 

Sunday, February 21, 2010

I have begun to make some decisions toward finding some way to redirect my grief.  First, I decided to have painted and refurbished the exterior of our house.  As those who have visited us know, I've had to abandon our yards and the outside in general.  So I've taken the step toward getting things spruced up a bit.

Next, I've ordered replenishments of my oil paints along with a light weight outdoor easel.  Along with a new paint box Bill and Vickie gave me for Christmas, this should get my artistic juices out of storage.

And every day, I'm taking Maggie out for a little ride in the car, spacing errands out so that I can do one per day.  Beyond that, I've begun walking a bit.  Both these moves help get me away from the recliner and in motion.

And Bill and Vickie will be coming for the weekend of my birthday in March.  Being with them never fails to bring healing.

Have a restful Sunday.
Dianne