Watershed

October 20, 2021

Winterizing, getting water-sensitive objects out of the roofing house before the rainy season. Anything susceptible will rust, melt, mildew or be eaten by rats here in the forest. I barely got settled in this April when I fell, missed two months when I couldn’t walk, then hobbled down on crutches. Now I am packing out again. The door- there is no door- is wide open. No fear of theft.

I moved many supplies to Essex. I much prefer to paint watercolor there. I did some framing during a blissful few hot October days. Simple little repairs and tasks are so satisfying. I miss the weeks on end when I could draw every day. Not sure why that skill has not transferred. Muscle memory, perhaps. Distractions. A sense of safety in the world.

I get around on my own pretty good. After 6 months it’s an awkward state of being fragile and also able to drive alone. A real awareness of before and after now, suddenly “sort of”. The illusion of Autonomy. Another watershed, a dangerous threshold, the bum’s rush, time to make tracks. Home. Yes.

moon over truckee, september 2019