The last month has been interesting. I, honestly, have been all over the map. Reaching a year since Sonya passed was strange, and I found myself in a bit of an emotional slump. Those anniversaries kind of make you re-live everything, right down to the feelings of disbelief and responsibility. At the same time, though, I was working on reorganizing the apartment and paring down belongings, as well as working out more.
Additionally, I finally gave myself permission to follow my creative yearnings and work on a variety of new pieces--many involving animals or plants that are like totems to me. Inspirational, important, meaningful. The one above--the hummingbird--has always signified hope to me. I first noticed it when I was 14, and had been moved to live with my mom in the middle of nowhere in the Columbia River Gorge. I had lost most of my friends and was told that I could not be in contact with some of them. Destitute, I took myself for a walk down the road to a special spot that overlooked the Klickitat River and the hills around us. I cried and cried, feeling helpless and frustrated, and then I heard something. Just the slightest shift of sound, of wind....I looked up and there was a hummingbird right in front of me just floating there, looking at me. In the middle of this grassy, dry land that was parched and full of oak trees, here was this beautiful tiny and colorful creature. It hovered there for a few seconds, and then dipped away down into the trees. I took it as a sign of hope. After a few more wonder-filled minutes, I got up from my perch and walked home.