An ominous title – that may be because I’ve been in an ominous mood for a few days in a row. It’s hard to focus on the flow when windows and doors in the outer world disappear and the remaining encasement is as stiff as a casket.
Wait. Scratch that sentence. I do not want to infect you with my ominocity (is that a word?).
When I began this blog, it was to share bits and pieces of our creative life. Well, we still are rife with creativity, but at the same time, we’re on edge. In part this is why I stopped writing, and why I stopped visiting other blogs (that and time constraints).
Our businesses are slow, or tedious, or both. Our home is still for sale. Our hearts are still set on another way of life. We’ve discussed our options. (O, how we’ve discussed our options.)
Should I burden you with the not-so-fun stuff? I am not a Mommy Blogger, I am not a Happy Pappy Writer. I find joy in life, really I do, but I cannot close my eyes to the fact that we’re right smack in the middle of a system crash. As self-employed artists, both Top1 and I feel that crash to our core.
I’ve toyed with the idea to just forsake the Flowtops. I have closed down the Etsy shop, to start with. Etsy is not me. I’m a thinkerer. Someone who thinks a lot, meditates a lot, then produces her work. It is not cute (not all the time). It is not “invented” for sales purposes. It is the flow, telling us where to look for trust, for answers, for relieve.
There are real dangers out there, posing a real threat to mankind in the near future. This is what I have vowed to do with the remainder of my time on earth: write and draw philosophical poems, stories, watercolours, ink drawings. Talk freely, openly, from the heart, the soul, the one place where peace is always attainable.
I’d love to do this in a community, a self-supporting sustainable village where sharing is king. Where I can just hop on over to my neighbour and discuss what I’ve read, or made, or thought up. Where the little Tops are homeschooled, by us and other people like us. Where an apple pie is appreciated just as much as money, or more even. Where poetry, in whatever form, is seen for what it is: a save haven, a beacon of light.
But for now, this is where we are at: living off of our savings, struggling to find our bearings, to educate ourselves, to motivate ourselves to love and to grow. We so want to escape our coffin, but cannot push away the lid.
So where do we go from here? Should I just post a few fun photographs of our bits and bobs of work now and then, tell you family stories, pretend all is well in our neck of the wood? Or should I explore the darker sides, and the more philosophical sides? Should I pester you with links to stuff I read, about transitioning into a new non-monetary system, about Advaita Vedanta, about the way the inner world and outer world are or should be connected?
This body is capable, and so is this mind. But they are nothing compared to this soul. Should I address you from its core, here, on this blog, even though it has been a family style blog for the longest time?
I really don’t know.
Image may be NSFW.Clik here to view.
