It's funny that I started counting the days when I thought I would give my self 21 days to add exercise to my life, but I think it is more a tallying of days in which I pay attention more. To my body yeah, sometimes, but more to my life. Like putting one moment under a microscope and telling you about it.
(kiss my tooth)
The most complicated part of my life has always been my house. No matter how much room I have its never enough. Its never organized never together never makes sense never looks like a grown up lives there. I get the kitchen under control, usually, except for dishes in the sink (getting better at that) but my livingroom has always doubled as a bedroom, tripled as an art studio. I always live in places that are run down and I never have enough money to fix it up. I now live in a cottage that will be torn down in approximately 6 months. Ive been asked why I moved here when it was temporary but it doesn’t feel temporary. Im committed to this place. The area, the ocean, Patricia. The walls that surround me can change but I know I am not leaving this town. So I sleep on a mattress on the floor because I dont want to move and have to throw away a bigger bed. I don’t buy anything new for the same reason I’ll only have to store it or ditch in the spring so I make due with whats around me. So far I haven’t invested any love or time into it because I know its going to go but thats not how I want to live. We never. Ever, know what is going to happen and you have to live like there is no tomorrow, today.
Christmas day after my nauseousness let up I hot glued fabric on the edge of a counter top in the kitchen. And Im planning a mural of a bird on a cabinet door. I can tear it off when they rip the place down.
It has termites. The floors are not even. This house was built in the 1930’s and not up to code.
It’s gotta go.
What is freeing about this place is I can do what I want.
Draw on the walls she says.
I'll take pictures tomorrow.