“What’s on tree-girl’s pants?” Thalia absently massaged a tweaky tendon. “Strawberry jam? Or —” she grinned, “ A splotch from a berry eating bird in her braannnnn-chez?”
“Or,” Nia’s frown lines furrowed, “Somebody failed to properly clean our brush after its last use.”
“Mmmmm… I love our life.” Calliope took note of cedar branches swaying in the strong winds outside studio’s window. “We’re rooted… yet open to growth. Every day… we feel the joy of showing up as ourselves… straight in the real world.”
I never practice, I always play.
~ Wanda Landowska
Hmm. I wonder why I love Cal's wisdom so much: "We’re rooted… yet open to growth."
Being red-green color deficient, this reader is feeling like a character in Castaneda’s book, A Separate Reality! Nada on tree-girl’s britches. 🤷🏽 To my eye.
Tal’s possibilities were rooted in the natural world. Imagine my delight in seeing Vibram “Five Finger” (root) cross trainers on tree-girl.
Typist? Do you suppose Nia is channeling some crotchety old fella? I sense a pattern of late. 🤷🏽 The lament did little to clean the brush.
Cal, sweet Cal. She seems to have found just the right spot amid all you creatives. Just like Goldilocks! Before, uncertainty and speaking hesitantly were prominent. Now I hear calm statements of her positions (no attempt to make Nia see things her way). Unflinchingly. Confidently. Not unlike the fresh breezes outside the studio today, a breath of fresh air! Has she become a regular listener/reader of Gratitude Space?
Grateful for all you create, Gail.