On Locking the Door

I would like to say no to everything. Close the door on everyone and lock myself in my den and never come out. I don’t know if it’d help. But sometimes I do want to. Wish I could. Instead I try to reserve some time everyday. I tell people it is my time. I have done what I was supposed to, and now everyone please excuse me, I am unavailable.
Unfortunately it is not as official as, Oh it’s 2 o clock, good bye everyone. More like, when everything is done I sneak off. If it’s not enough time, then I have not been efficient enough with everything else. If I am at the typing on the keyboard I still have to be ready to stop if something comes up. Something often does. It is the way of most people I think though. Time for working is carved out, and it is not always easy to do. So many people want our time.
Sometimes there is altogether too much stuff that seems to be going on in the world in general too. I often wish that somehow I could just turn it all off. And let the peace soak in. Then slowly meander my way through the hills and valleys of my own mind. Drenching it on the paper next. Like a calligraphy pen drinks up the ink and sops the paper with its ultra dark lines.
I can only make do though. Someday I may make those lines more clear for myself. Everyday that I get to participate in the art that I love I feel blessed. And I can’t imagine not doing it. If I miss a day, I feel at a loss somehow. That the day had gotten squandered.

(c) National Trust, Calke Abbey; Supplied by The Public Catalogue Foundation