Thirty

January 30, 2012 § Leave a comment

Day 30.

It is said that Sasquatch like to sleep on hemlock and are attracted to music. But just because I know these “facts” doesn’t mean I should talk about them when around attractive men. Tonight as I practiced Bigfoot calls in the middle of my parents’ living room I could not help but wonder if I had discovered the root of my ever present singlehood. After watching a couple episodes of Finding Bigfoot my mother turned the channel.

Now I am sitting in front of one of Oprah’s new shows. While some may argue that she is the voice of the devil I would like to quietly disagree (but let’s not go there). She is interviewing Donna Karen which is a far cry from Bigfoot (or anything satanic). Last night I watched her interview George Lucas, and the night before that I watched (a non-Oprah related) show where the lead singer of Weezer was interviewed. Tonight I am seeing a theme – my continuous draw to hear the inner workings of some of the world’s most creative people. When I am not watching shows about the questionable existence of ape-like creatures or lounging lazily on my mother’s couch making “squatchy” calls I am using this relaxing season to be steeped in inspiration.

“Inspiration” – the one word I cannot pry from my mind these days. As I stood in the candle aisle of Target today inhaling the fragrant wax filled jar aptly titled “Inspiration” I realized it is going to be a lot harder to escape that word than I thought. Besides that one candle in that one chain store, I have found it in my timeless, favorite, hometown thrift store – bright yellow, retro schoolroom-like chairs, the endless possibilities of vintage fabrics, and the energy of turning something old into a recycled treasure make me feel like there are endless possibilities beckoning me. Inspiration awaits me every morning when I take my dog outside – the stark white snow reminding me of a blank canvas; the fresh, cold air awakening my soul. I spend a bit of time in the evenings reading my mother’s old issues of Mary Jane’s Farms, and I cannot contain the hippy-like inspiration as I tear out pages of soap making instructions. I think back on today – the artistic quilt hanging in the local restaurant, the peaceful atmosphere of the food co-op, the labels on the bottles at the local wine store, the bread recipe in the back of the magazine – and I feel almost too invigorated to sleep despite the late hour of the night.

Whether out of rest or being back in the Midwest or just opening my eyes a little wider than before I feel almost inspired beyond words. And I would like to think that it is this lack of words that has me rambling on about Sasquatch… but probably not.

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