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I have to remember to shift my mind to something more positive, even if it takes practice. I certainly don't have it perfected yet. I'm looking forward to that day. Everything difficult takes time until it’s easy. I didn’t fall out of the womb walking and talking. I remember my first crop died. It’s all about patience, determination and perseverance.
Have to stop feeling like this.
How to tackle it?
That’s what I want to know.
The best solution I can think of is to throw myself into my work. What I do helps people. Feeds them. Nourishes. And that's an honorable thing. I've always taken great pride in my livelihood, and I’ve, over time, become extremely good at it. That’s how I’ll heal. There's something primal about getting your hands dirty in the soil of Earth.
Throwing on a pair of grey jeans plus a black Henley shirt I look over at my selection of cowboy boots, work boots, sneakers, and opt for the last. My Converse, to be specific. What I wear when I'm not working.
It'll be interesting to meet people from around the globe. It always has been. Unfortunate I haven't met more when the opportunity has always been there. Almost every month out of the year a new retreat group arrives, guests with their own stories. Usually good people, too, because the kind of person who takes time out for themselves is usually on a good path or searching for one.
The years with Shelby, especially the last five or so, kept me away from the retreat for the most part. I used to be so involved with it when I was a little kid, always participating, even helping to run some of the craft activities. It made me really happy. I’d forgotten all about that until now, so I’m heading over to Sunflower with more of a spring in my steps than I’ve had for the past two weeks since I visited my cousin and last fought with Shelby. Been quiet since then. It’ll be really good to have dinner with a fresh group of faces, along with Silvia — my second mom — and Mom and Dad, who’ve been working hard to help me through this crazy fucking transition.
I think I'm gonna tell Mom I love her, tonight. Dad, too. Something I should never forget to do.
Grabbing the keys for my Jeep, I lock up and head out.
EIGHT
Willow
Ibrought a wide angle lens, my 70-300mm, and my favorite of them all — a 100mm fixed macro lens, f/2.8. Its superpower is capturing subjects as close as you can get, perfect for the gorgeous details of anything at all. I could use this to capture the kaleidoscope of a person’s eyes, to the veins of a flower, to the rust on a nail, to the center of a single blade of grass, blurring out everything save for what I want the viewer to see.
Pressing the button to release the 70-300mm lens I used during the ride, I remove it and quickly align the red dot on the 100mm with the red dot on the camera, and turn until I hear its secured ‘click’ sound. I’ve got a fresh battery and my CF card has only the quickly-grabbed horse pictures.
Why didn’t I take any at the airport? Oh yeah, rushed. Plus, it was stressful there.
Laura pokes her head into our room, Dax gone already. “It’s 6:15 and I can’t wait. I’m starving.” She walks in, “Oh, this is lovely. Your window is gorgeous!”
I glance to the beautiful bay window with white gauzy curtains that fall to lay gracefully on the floor, they’re so long. “I’m in love with this whole place.”
“My room is blue, my favorite color. Normal window though.” Laura walks to look at my suitcase open on the bed. “Strategic shoving of the lenses into your clothes for protection.”
A laugh bursts out of me, and it feels good. “I need to get a proper case!”
“No, I like this. Hides it from the robbers.”
“The robbers might want my underwear more.”
She cracks up, and I join her as she points to my suitcase and explodes with, “What’s all this expensive camera stuff? I want panties!”
Maggie sticks her head into our room. “What?!”
We laugh harder and backtrack, explaining and letting her in on the joke, which never works as well as when it’s first birthed into the world. Still, she laughs a little and tells us, “I was just being nosy and checking out the other rooms. I’m in love with the charm of this place.”
Laura agrees and I excuse myself, saying, “I want to go capture those Sunflowers out front before it gets dark.” We three head downstairs to find the others occupying various seating areas in the main room, the dining table empty of people but fabulously decorated like something out of a magazine that beckons, Come break bread with family.
That reminds me, I have to call my Mom and tell her where I am. Whoops.
Seeing Rachel and Sylvia preparing dishes in the kitchen, I hold up my camera. “I’m just going to snap some pictures outside, is that okay?”
Rachel says with a warm smile, “This is your home while you’re here. You get to do whatever you want.” Raising her voice to include everyone she says, “That goes for all of the classes, too. Nothing is mandatory, except doing whatever you want to relax and have an enjoyable time.”
“Within reason,” Silvia laughs. “No rave parties.”
Several of us laugh, and Dax cracks a smile, eyes clear, headache seemingly gone. “Where is a good place to put up my easels?”
