I went home last night and my mom was on the phone with her sister, so I got started making dinner. The thing I needed to tell her was that I wasn’t going to my regular Thursday commitment at church because I’m going to be there tonight for hours for a concert I’m singing in, but that I was going to spend some time in prayer either at home or while I walked the dog.
I spent the evening on Friday at the Denver Art Museum. I have had a membership for the last three years, and only manage to go once per year, which means that I’m totally overpaying for this. But I find that I don’t mind, and here’s why:
I’ve been to some of the great art museums of the world. Musee D’Orsay, the Louvre, the Prado, the Art Institute of Chicago, the National Gallery, in Washington D.C., among others. Let me own up front that the Denver Art Museum’s collections and exhibits are not as impressive as these places. But I think I love it better than all of those places, and not just because it’s my hometown art museum. I loved the Prado and the Art Institute of Chicago, in particular— their collections were awe inspiring. I’m someone who can spend hours and hours in an art museum and never be bored. I soak up the art like a sponge. But, for example, in the Louvre, the sheer volume of it was overwhelming. It took almost no time for me to narrow my focus to only sculpture and to skip all the other galleries, because I didn’t know what to look at. I developed a distaste for portraiture in the Louvre, because it was so entirely overwhelming. I didn’t know what I was supposed to see in all these faces. It struck me as more of an invaluable art warehouse than a museum I could enjoy exploring.
So now that my novel has come a-knocking, I figured I’d better get cracking with that writing software I wanted to check out. I checked out Liquid Story Binder, earlier this year, but it’s not really my kind of thing. Monday, I signed up for a trial of Scrivener, which has always sounded like a better bet for me (a more visual interface, a little less OpenSource look and feel [I’m for OpenSource, don’t get me wrong, it’s just not what I’m looking for in writing software, given that the price point for both, when I was looking at them both was identical.]) But I was making chutney (oh the canning I’ve been doing. Stand by for those tales!) and watching the Olympics, so I got really only as far as signing up on Monday.
I met my novel this morning in my email. An email newsletter I got subscribed to by a club I considered joining, but didn’t, contained a quote that won’t let me go. And it dovetails with a bunch of ideas I’ve been thinking about, as a central organizing theme. And all the hair on the back of my neck is standing up.
Remember when my mom said “What would you do if you could do anything at all?” and I didn’t know? I built a vision board, I so didn’t know.
I figured it out this weekend. You’ll never guess what my heart’s desire is!
So I’m happy to report that the news at work is getting better. They’re taking things I don’t like off my plate— really tactical, mind-numbing work— to free me up to focus on content. Which is my passion. And I love that.So where, two weeks ago, I was coming home in tears because it was just so clear that I couldn’t live this way anymore, I’m feeling like “huh— maybe this isn’t so bad after all!”
For those of you newer to the blog, apparently, my karmic challenge has something to do with my desire to leave things on good terms with guys I date, regardless of who ended things. I don’t know if it’s causal (because I don’t throw hissy fits at them, I tend to run into them or they tend to look me back up later) or coincidental (it’s a good thing I don’t throw hissy fits at them because I tend to run back into them), but the break up is seldom the end.