The Restory Retreat Centre

I love this ache. For too long I have felt nothing. But then, the Spark (See the post Caught in the amber ) . And now the Ache. What to do with all this beauty?! It drives me to distraction: A Rapunzel sun spinning wintry grass to gold; the textures and colourways of story book stone walls; Katryn's amber eyes; Mily's purr and silken weight on my lap; the single new purple flower on the rosemary bush; the Zaaihoek dam under a sapphire sky; salad greens on a simple white plate; the huge supermoon rising just beyond reach; the puffed and perfect fiscal shrike on the fence, the huge open roses of cabbage; the icy crispness in the air; the cattle's curly winter coats... The impossible beauty of the Zaaihoek dam in winter.  Photo by Matilda It's too much to handle. So I knit. In the colours and textures of this winter. Maybe to somehow catch it in a scarf, a cap, a pullover. I don't know. I should do more with this, but I'm not yet sure precisely what. So I kn...

A small river we cross on the way to Newcastle. Photo by Matilda This time round I have been waiting very long for the spark. That tiny little flicker of a thing that sets the ready kindling alight, slowly warming my insides with ideas licking slowly higher and higher, until I can no longer contain myself. And start creating in a burst of red hot energy!  It is not a necessary ingredient in the life of an artist, I am told. One should create, write, sculpt whether you feel inspired or not. It comes with the doing. With the keeping at it. So I'm told and it has been my experience for the most. But there is a marked difference. If inspiration can be graded, I would have to say, the keep-at-it-and-it-comes-along variety has always been rather lukewarm for me personally. It does not seem to heat up much, but burns steadily and quietly, producing well... well, producing sellable products. But it hardly raises my pulse.   While I'm in the creative slow cooker I am ...