The sound of a giant awakening My desk is in a new place – not sure I like it yet. table saw To my right, a pile of ash and cherry lumber, drywall, moor vents, a roll of typar, a garbage bag full of roxyl & strips of R20 styrofoam. A rolled-up rug, boxes of Christmas decorations from 2 years ago. To my left, other, more domestic piles – rolled up clothing, socks, a towel, plant bits on the floor. In front of me are five large bags, each representing one fiscal year of our taxes. Beyond that, seven small piles of clothing I will keep but have no drawer-space for. If I were a giant waking from a long sleep to find this mountain of stuff piled on top of me, I would be irritated. I’d make a huge crack in the earth, shove it all in, and that would be that. the current state of the shovel painting. We’ve been at it all week here. Instead of creating art, Grant has built shelves, sorted tools, filed rolls of electrical wire; plumbing, mortar, drywall materials, kitchen appliances; saws and drills and bits and screws. Instead of working in my studio I have armoured myself with high purpose and dug deeply into corners that were like dark lairs – every one stacked full of toxically functionless Stuff that should have been gone from here a long long time ago. Now, on the second day of 2013 in this short break from the battle between Positive Forward Movement and Clogged Paralysis, I’m well and truly exhausted and still uncertain as to the victor. edge of a small cliff Enter Joseph Campbell: I don’t believe people are looking for the meaning of life as much as they are looking for the experience of being alive. Huh. [insert pause, as I stare out at the gently falling snow…..] south window I’m going to light the wood stove now, and BURN STUFF. happy 2013 all. & just to reassure – it’s a (mostly) friendly giant.