Process

The Artists Day

Morning. In the morning when I rise, I flip on my iPhone. The time reads 5:17. The summer sun is rising, filling the room with a golden glow. 'I'm on vacation' I tell myself as I slip down under my crisp, Egyptian cotton white sheets. My down comforter comforts me in my little mosquito netting covered bed.

I glance over at my easel that holds a half finished painting staring back at me with a hope that gives me shivers. I will get to it. Someday. I will get to it. It will be a masterpiece in its own time... I drift into slumber, so my soul would stop stirring.

A few hours later I awake again because the blazing sun is shining through my white lace curtains, creating a sauna out of my bedroom. I can't sleep when I am hot and sweaty. I turn on my morning Spotify playlist. The first song that plays as I fight with my ambition...

"Slumber"

'Days they force you

Back under those covers

Lazy mornings they multiply

But glory's waiting

Outside your window

So wake on up from your slumber

Baby, open up your eyes'...

Ok Needtobreathe, your southern charm has won me over and I am crawling out from my lazy slumber into the glory of the morning.

"Tongues are violent

Personal and focused

Tough to beat with

Your steady mind

But hearts are stronger after broken

So, wake on up from your slumber

Baby, open up your eyes"

I brush my teeth and throw my Buddy Holly glasses on as I stumble down the stairs to make breakfast.

"All these victims

Stand in line for

The crumbs that fall from the table

Just enough to get by"

My cereal is gone. I swear I had just opened that granola. My roommate must have eaten it. Or hid it. Darn. I open my fridge to weigh my options. All I see is my piece of tres leches cake I picked up at Cafe Late last night and my cold press growler.

"All the while

Your invitation

Wake on up from your slumber

Baby, open up your eyes

Wake on up from your slumber

Baby, open up your eyes"

I mix up a simple syrup in a mason jar, pour in the caffeinated goodness, add a generous drip of cream topped with a scoop of ice and take a sip. My eyes begin to open. Really open. And my soul with it. Enlightened by this iced nirvana.

"Take from vandals

All you want now

Please, don't trade it in for life

Replace the feeble

With the fable

Wake on up from your slumber

Baby, open up your eyes

Wake on up from your slumber

Baby, open up your eyes"

Plating up the tres leches like they do at Cafe Latte, I feel rebellious and fancy.

"All these victims

Stand in line for

The crumbs that fall from the table

Just enough to get by

All the while

Your invitation..."

I take my morning fare to the the front porch, where my popisan chair awaits me expectantly.The coleus and begonias are a cheerful glory that adorn the vintage wooden tables. They look thirsty, I give them a drink.

Before I take a bite of my indulgent choice breakfast, I snap a pic on my iPhone, because my Instagram followers need to know about this moment. I have an insane desire to share the divinity of this morning with the world. I don't feel so alone when 3 likes show up under my idilic photo of tres leches cake perfectly plated on a turquoise glass dish adorned with 3 raspberries, and iced coffee in a mason jar with a paper chevron straw.

'Baby, open up your eyes

Come on

Sing like we used to

Dance when you want to

Taste of the breakthrough

And open wide'

I start singing along at this point. Sitting on my front porch in North Minneapolis. I am perched perfectly above the hood in my white Pickett fenced house. I hear the birds in the trees and the hustlers down the street.

"All these victims

Stand in line for

The crumbs that fall from the table

Just enough to get by

All the while

Your invitation

Wake on up from your slumber

Baby, open up your eyes

Wake on up from your slumber

Baby, open up your eyes

Wake on up from your slumber

Baby, open up your eyes"

As I sip my nirvana and eat my little slice of heaven, my soul awakens.

I browse my Facebook feed and find a fun blog a 'friend' posted. It's called "she reads truth" I open it. It's a beautiful app. I download it and read the daily meditation. My spirit soars. My mind is awake. I am alive in this moment.

"Come on

Sing like we used to

And dance like you want to

Come on now and open your eyes"

Inspiration hits me like a jolt of Creative energy as I write my morning pages. My floral print journal holds the nuances of my stirring soul I dare not share to another human being. Yet somehow writing them out unleashes my inner being, freeing me to walk in this world.

"Come on

Sing it like we used to

And we'll dance like we want to"...

It's now 11:15.

I am free....