River Dips, Violets & Sketchbook pages
Well, where to begin? It is that point of spring where winter stupor is slipping away and the excitement of so much to do and say and see begins to set back in! Here’s a bit of what I have been up to lately.
Last week I celebrated my 29th birthday, an age that feels at once strangely foreign and fitting. I am so thankful for my years, for getting to be here, for love and family and friends and beauty! For the past 5 or 6 years I have marked my birthday with a dip in a body of water. To rinse away the year prior, and to feel strong at the start of a new one. Last year it was the Atlantic Ocean. Recently, I found a note in my phone that I wrote after I clambered back ashore. It sums up how a jump into very cold water can feel at its best. I think it would make a great comic one day, and I like it enough to want to share it here:
I went in once and was afraid of the waves. I couldn’t dive in or put my head under. The act of releasing myself into the experience felt too scary. I dunked my body and scurried out, too focused on what D was doing and how he had dove perfectly into a wave and I could not do it just that way so it was not worth bothering.
Then I knew I had to go in again, and put my whole self under the surface.
I ran out. Deep breaths. My feet burning. I fell into the ocean, I gave myself to it head first. Ungracefully.
Afterwards: Clean. Bare and exposed, polished by the salt. Red and raw and suddenly real.
I looked down at my body as I walked to shore and saw that it was MINE, just mine. No one else’s. That all sensations, experiences and perceptions were MINE and mine alone. I felt every inch of my skin, and the sun and the wind on it and how I possessed all that sensation, how it belonged only to me, could only be felt in that way by me. The waves were cold but I owned the cold. I was not afraid of the cold. I accepted it. I felt it fully, and it felt good to feel it.
The planet around me, under me. A distinct lack of shame. A moment of total acceptance of myself, the sensations in my body, and the arrangement of the world. without fear. A full body surge of: I am here, just like any other being.
This year I went into a brook near my new home. It was not as cold as the Atlantic, but it was mountain snow-melt water and it definitely did the trick.
In other news, I’ve recently started working in a greenhouse. It’s lovely getting to spend my days with dirt and plants and seeds. One of my tasks is to pluck blooms off plants that are flowering prematurely. I have a major fondness for pansies and violas, so sometimes I document the blooms that I find particularly great before I pinch them off. Here’s a selection for your enjoyment:
Needless to say, pansies and violets have been finding their way into my art practice lately . . .
I’ve been doing more watercolor painting than usual to prepare for a class I am teaching later this month, which you can find more info about here. Below is a recent journal page, which I painted using these very excellent watercolors my mom gave me for Christmas, and the tiny brush they came with.
Besides all that, I’ve been baking enormous chocolate chip cookies, feeling excited about the sounds of spring peepers and redwing blackbirds, and looking for salamanders. Now’s the time of year when they and many other amphibians are crossing roads on damp nights on their way to their breeding grounds, so be mindful while you are out there doing whatever it is you are doing!
That’s all! I’m still figuring this newsletter thing out, was this email too scary long for you? I really got into this one!
Sending you love!
Jill
Perfect, especially your journal entry about your dip last year. Love your words. 💜
Great, not too long at all. Love the watercolors!