words -- i am without words -- i feel i am flailing about in slow motion, without the proper momentum, casting about in an odd desperation which is slow, timid & with a little more focus than true flailing or...
when I was on the train heading to L.A. for the services I was knitting -- but it was some deconstructed thing; i kept casting on and changing needle sizes, i changed up the pattern, creating "lace" holes randomly. maybe I will make a handkerchief with tonnes of holes, big gaping holes, for crying into when I cry. something so formless it captures the essence of my feelings. i was using this beautiful tan bamboo something or other. i kept frogging, i kept at it like it gave me a purpose other than what was my true purpose. i never completed it. i think i ripped it all out when i got home.
schooling the boy, writing one of the many projects i have set myself, etc are giving me some "direction" but i am feeling that everything is without reason or purpose but busy-ness of living each day, not really accomplishing something, anything and i am detached enough that i am not angry or sad or properly anything to set myself off into true motion or emotion. it just happened, lots of things just happened.
but i know i am a powder keg waiting for some stray spark then WHAMO!