Tuesday, August 27, 2019

Fuckface von Clownstick

These went up on lampposts in Copenhagen.

Today is going to be great. I love this pathway project; the work isn’t exhausting and it’s satisfying because it goes quite quickly. I can hardly wait to see how it looks six weeks from now. 
I was using the skill saw on some of the lumber. I had the grace of a polar bear trying to thread a needle. I was dreadful; I did not know how to saw on the line; it’ll take practice. And I would have been quite a site to any passersby because I don’t have any work clothes so I was wearing an apron. I use it when I’m painting the lumber with wood preservative and I forgot to take it off. 
Drill, stain, lay, nail down and fill: I have my routine and that’s all I’ll do today. I want to do twice as much as I did yesterday if I can—and it’s predicted to be hot both today and tomorrow. It’s expected to reach 30° this afternoon.
I’ve just realized that on Friday, two strangers are coming here to stay. They are coming to Gabriola to perform in Cultivate,  a local performing arts festival. Thankfully, I do not have to feed or entertain them and they are gone most of the time.
I’m madly collecting dying Salal leaves. I’ve posted photos of them. They are beautifully coloured when I pick them but the colour fades and flattens (goes matte) as they dry, so I will varnish them and use them, perhaps, to make another dress. And I may try to fix my other dresses as my winter projects.
The purpose of a solitary life is a bit of a mystery—at least to me. Three reasons I love getting up every morning are Sheba, Fred and Ethel. That’s for sure. And I easily fill my hours with things that are fulfilling in both execution and outcome.
But it’s weird being home alone nearly all the time. One reason I stay busy is to that I don’t think about being alone too much. 
It’s very comfortable, being solitary, weird as it is. I love this place and it’s spa, fireplace, birds, silence and surrounding forest. Being besieged by symptoms that challenge and exhaust me anchor me here; so there’s that. I feel ‘obligated’ to be solitary.
I’m very glad I get visitors and invitations.















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