Tomorrow I take off for a three-day art workshop in Taos. I met the artist, Orly Avineri, at ArtFest last year and fell in love with her spiritual ways. We’re going to do strange and wonderful things to old passports.
I’m ready for a change of pace, change of scenery, change of mind. I can’t wait to get in my rental car in Albuquerque and hit new roads in a beautiful part of the country. I can’t wait to see what an AirBNB private suite will provide Taos-style. I can’t wait to be with artful folk. Inspiration wafts in the air like bread rising in the oven.
My friend, Sue, will reprise her role as Cat Whisperer. Now that Henry is in his dotage, I need her gentle cat ways to keep from worrying about his finicky bowels and time away from him when there’s not that much time left. Emmett, as always, will be fine under the bed linens where he feels safest.
Once I’m done sorting the first draft I can see what it is. Is there a heart? Is there a through-line? I’m absolutely great with not knowing. It will come. It always does.
So, in a calm and clear state of mind, I’m taking precautions as I haven’t flown since my assignation with Richard Armitage in London three years ago. I’m chewing a couple of Airborne with my morning Shakeology immunity-booster smoothies. Religiously.
But the cootie-infested air on a plane laughs at such feeble measures. I am healthy and well will be my whistling-past-the-graveyard mantra as I squirt hand sanitizer in a pentagram around my seat.
Whatever. It will be worth any bug or virus.
Adventures always are.