What's underneath you?

I moved the furniture around last night. Again. We have lived here for over a year now and I've never felt like that room quite made sense. There's an uncertain center, no entry, poor lighting, uneasy features. Every few months I get to thinking that it really might feel better if the furniture were arranged differently. And it has, sort of. But the other night, I think I finally got it right. I moved the rug.

©2007 Mindy Danylak

In Search of Orange

My aunt passed away on Memorial Day and her funeral was this past Tuesday. I was planning to drive across the state for her service but woke up that morning with a headache and knew that 9 hours of driving, alone, was not a good idea. So I stayed home. But I wanted to mark the day somehow, so I pulled out my brushes, a handful of acryllic paints, and some waiting canvases. Within moments, a new painting was being born on our kitchen table. Overlapping circles streaked with yellow, dipped in a green called possibility. I was enjoying the piece until I painted the edges of the 8 x 10 canvas a rich brown. Suddenly I felt trapped in those circles, going round and round and round... I needed a way out. I needed a ray of hope, a way for those circles to be life-giving momentum and not just whirlwinds. I needed an orange edge.

Jonathan & I have, again, been talking recently about risks. I wonder... are we done with living in Central Europe? Will we ever go back? I brought it up the other night. Is there a way? Something feels drawing about those places, hallowed almost. Yesterday I pulled out some music I listened to a lot while I was living in Ostrava. I held onto the hopefulness in the lyricism of the orchestra's dialogue with my experience, especially as I got closer and closer to returning home. I remember sitting in my flat those last few weeks, listening to the swells of the music, picturing myself through the chords and cresendos... getting to the airport, boarding the plane, a brief layover in London, flying through the dark, emerging in light over North America, being with my family again, kissing the solid earth of Seattle in summer, ...

I sucked in my breath, shaken. What are we thinking? Why on earth would we even entertain the idea of returning? It was so hard for me to be there, even harder to stay. Why am I telling my husband that these thoughts are coming to my mind? Is it something else? What is it I'm drawn to? What risk is it that seems to be beckoning me? Why would I be doing this?

Maybe ... because it was orange.

©2007 Mindy Danylak

Initial Offering

For some time now, I have been a bit interested in blogs. Only a bit because I do not comb the internet reading blogs for fun. But yet a bit because the phenomenon fascinates me, and it's one I think can be quite compelling. I have friends who write about everything from life overseas to their experience in adopting a child. It's no substitution for a real conversation with a real person but I like having their blogs be one way of keeping up with them.

As to the purpose of this one, I'm leaving it wide open for now. To start out, I am simply curious about what is involved in starting one ...clicking the boxes, setting the colors, seeing the preview, thinking of the content, entering the question of what it feels like to open up a communicative space "out there".... regardless of what it's about or where it goes. So for now, no intent. Maybe later. Right now, I'm enjoying the possibilty of the page.

©2007 Mindy Danylak