State of Transition

You could already tell by the new "look" of my blog--a stark-white background, contrasting heavily with the writing and images, the header a slightly off-kilter, lone raw citrine point--that I'm in a transitional phase.  Gone are my blog borders and blatant EmeraldCut header.  I'm craving images more than words right now.  This craving is not new or novel, but every time this crossover occurs, I am left speechless and in awe.  I love reading, the sound of a book page turning, a well-turned phrase.  But right now, it is much easier to admire the light and dark contrast of an image: its ability to be reinterpreted over and over again without critical thinking in the hand-eye-mind coordination sort of way.  In time, I will once again rekindle my longstanding relationship with words. 

Maybe I'm just mood matching with the weather, the cooling down prior to the onset of winter chill.  Lately, I've been finding myself infatuated with leaves.  Who knew that dying leaves--which could also be the symbolic representation of the life cycle and renewal--would be such an inspiration?  Leaf images have saturated this blog in golden yellows, vivid reds, and golden browns.  I have also recently purchased a vermeil maple leaf pendant for my sterling silver necklace chain.  My grandmother's name was Golden Leaf.  I like to think that these actions, unconscious or not, are all somehow connected: the weather, my new found penchant for leafy-type items, and this not entirely painful period of transition.

My writing process has been put aside for awhile, but I have been easing back into the ball and chain act of editing.  (I must state that it's a leaden ball and chain, and that editing, for me, is an arduous process of utter mental exhaustion.)  I got quite frustrated and angry over the act.  My husband says that my anger and frustration is the impetus to finish editing, to take that last step--stare it defiantly in the face--and prevail.  I think he is right because I've been more determined and clear-headed in this editing now than ever before.

I'm putting my foot down, and gluing myself down to my desk.  My daily Etsy searches will only last one hour a day, max.  I'm crossing my fingers, and tapping my toes: for this transition has in it an air of optimism.  I can feel it.  And for that, I am content.