tomorrow (now today)

I buy my first ever microforest, my first ever home in the woods. my microforest is awesomely wonderful; I can't think of a space more peaceful or perfect for me. the house has potential with good bones, it will take a bit of work to make it home, a nest. i need a nest. it has a porch (a bit shallow, I'll need to expand it) and a porch is key since i prefer to spend my moments out of doors. vintage champagne 1988 carpet gets ripped out very first thing. it's filthy and faded. I am excited about my microforest and hermitage; til I catch myself weeping. I know it will be good; I know it is what I need and something I actually want; I know god works this way. but then I know that I can't even begin to understand, so I stop trying and just accept the gift. so i'll be a fixin her, giving her a good kick in the pants and shaking her up, and making sure I dedicate plenty of time for upcoming show lest I get lost in functional installation art (aka home renovation and furniture building). well...and some kayaking and watching the pound to add four legged tribal member come fall. funny that i coined that phrase relative to my history. sad funny. but mostly sad and pathetic. never did fit much into groups or that group, was always a bit to different for the comfort zones, questioned to many things, was a little more raw and experienced more gray than could be tolerated, well ... truth be told, my fingernails are always dirty no matter how I try. i couldn't and can't survive in tribes or families or other groups that don't have capacity to live and breathe forgiveness and mercy. I've found because of our humanness, breathing forgiveness and mercy daily is a part of all healthy relationships. cognitive ideations of forgiveness and mercy from a distance are not the same as living and breathing these relational things. just not. I've come to accept that I will always have dirty fingernails, it is just part of who I am and that kindness far outways "rightness." when we allow rightness to trump kindness, everyone looses.

it's raining again; reviving the living again. I do love the smell of rain.

the road to my microforest