I am in the midst of choosing, organizing, and packing this week. I’m making my seasonal move southwards three months early. Leaving tomorrow.
I am a nester, not a traveller. Yet, for the past thirteen years I have lived a transient life. Depending on the time of year, I am in one of two places. I keep studios at both. Most of my drawing and writing is done in my northern studio where life is quieter. In my southern studio I plan, gallery hop, visit, share inspiration with artist-writer friends. Filling my creative well to the brim and overflowing.
Somehow, despite these two places, I do not feel at home. It is the knowledge of another move to come in a few months that prevents me from feeling settled and grounded, even though both places are familiar to me.
I am talking about change.
Not all of this back-and-forth life is my choice, but much is. I find and create and cherish the good. I have beloved friends in each place, artists and writers and creators all. They are a blessing.
Change and change again. This was turning in my mind yesterday as I washed clothes, wrote lists, packed my studio, packed my life. I picked up my sketchbook and opened to a 17th century haiku, carefully copied down three years ago.
The haiku speaks of change, unanticipated and perhaps not welcome. It speaks of finding the blessing, something to cherish. It speaks to how I feel each time I choose, organize, pack up my transient life.
“My barn having burned down
I can now see the moon.”
Samurai and Poet Mizuta Masahide, 1657 – 1723
In this post:
I’ve found three translations of Masahides’ poem. This is my favourite.