Sunday, November 22, 2009

In the loops of her hair..

I. am. sick.

I'm not talking a trifle sick, I'm talking living-in-my-bathrobe-surrounded-by-a-mountain-of-tissues-watching-grey's-anatomy-re-runs-sick. I am unable to breathe through my left nostril, I've learned how to make four different kinds of shadow puppets, and I've learned that when all these things come together, it leaves one with a lot of time inside their own head. The
seeds of doubt that had been germinating weeded their way into my main stream of consciousness. In this craft, it's difficult to choose where to begin, how to create a name for myself. I don't want to be some greatly advertised campaign, something that pushes itself into peoples lives uninvited. I want to be....a wildfire of sorts.

Buisness wise, things have been a bit slow lately, I've been spending my time plotting shoots, finding new locations, and finding new inspiration/ideas. I know this is what I do. I move forward, I learn, I have patience.

I know this. Finding inspiration is probably the easiest. The combination of
being bed-bound and wi-fi is not lost on me, I assure you. I love weddings. I love love. I love everything about the idea of two people sharing their lives together. I know that eventually, I want to focus on weddings and engagements. I know that. So it's not hard to find inspiration, and from that, gain encouragement.

Tonight, I found encouragement in Yeats:

I whispered, 'I am too young,'
And then, 'I am old enough';
Wherefore I threw a penny
To find out if I might love.
'Go and love, go and love, young man,
If the lady be young and fair.'
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
I am looped in the loops of her hair.

O love is the crooked thing,
There is nobody wise enough
To find out all that is in it,
For he would be thinking of love
Till the stars had run away
And the shadows eaten the moon.
Ah, penny, brown penny, brown penny,
One cannot begin it too soon.

Happy Monday


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