1 post tagged “witchgrove”
First post here at Vox, and I'm happy to be here. It's Thursday afternoon and I just finished putting the first coat of Red Earth on the first of four walls that will need to be painted. The trim around the front window is a lovely satin black, which contrasts beautifully with the rich, deep red, and though it looked a helluva lot like a fuschia pink in the can, this colour is mellowing out nicely as it dries. I can't wait to be all done, though I am happy to take it one wall at a time. This is the room we all live in, play in, hang out in, so it's important that it be useable even while I'm redecorating.
I'm glad I'm not a scaredy-cat when it comes to colour. The results can be so beautiful, uplifting, and dramatic. This house gets to me sometimes, what with it being so old and run down, but a splash of colour is really making a huge difference to how I feel about it. Now if only I could master landscaping, wiring, roofing, tearing down walls and putting up new ones...
Paint is good enough for now, though. I'm happy to settle for these small changes while I'm waiting for the money for the big ones to materialize.
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It's been a very relaxing day. I spent some time chatting with Gryph from WG (a witch's mailing list I recently joined). We talked about my encounter with a Mountain Lion in a journey last year, and how confusing I found it due to my usual affinity for wolves. Witchy talk. It was really fun to talk with someone that speaks my language. Now that I've decided to come back out from my year of isolation from other pagans, I'm feeling inspired, and surprisingly safe. I'm being led in all the right directions, making all the right kinds of connections - the kind that feel good and right and powerful.
All this reconnecting has made me restless. I want to be forever doing things - writing, drawing, casting circles and chanting. I settle for painting the living room and blogging because I have to be careful not to burn myself out. My energy level hasn't been very good lately. Fatigue. Shortness of breath. I keep quitting smoking and starting again which is very bad for my self-esteem (the starting again part, that is) but I'm so lovingly supported by my sweetie that I'm overcoming all the negative self-talk this frustrating addiction is setting off in me. I'll quit. I will. It's taking longer than I want it too, and it's a lot harder than I expected, but I will quit, and at the very least, with all this quitting and starting, I'm smoking far less. So much less that I can go days without using my Ventolin. Today I've had three cigarettes. Usually, I'd have had at least a dozen by now. Small steps. I'll get there.
Ah...the middlin' kidlet just brought up a bunch of laundry, so I guess I'd better go fold it. I have no plans for the evening other than to get as much laundry done as possible, make the bedroom livable again (there's clean laundry everywhere) and read The Mabinogoin Tetrology.
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I know it seems like I just sort of jumped in here and started blabbing with no introduction. I like to start where I am, and this is where I am.
Ivy
