Thinking About the Past

Sketch Along Route 17

     The black storage hassock isn’t as useful to me for the stack of stuff on it as it is for the stuff inside it.

It has been months since I open the lid to get anything in there. My down sizing push put a bead on donating the hassock because I do not use it other than to out stuff on. Put stuff on aka clutter station. 

The other day I went through the notebooks and such stored in the black vinyl box (also serving as my knitting needle stash). A rush of memories bloomed in my heart thinking of what part of my past what I found there means to me. Sketches and watercolors I barely remember doing. And the best part is that I like them. That stuff was put there because it was my current (then) focus, handy to access. 

But something happened. The current became buried like soil on dinosaur bones. 

As I remember the little robin puffed up against a chilly wind, I think about my project to sketch more often. I even found the plastic envelope with my sketchbook and supplies. 

Why does that happen to us? Be enthusiastic about a goal and have it end up fading under the weight of whatever? Depression can’t be blamed for everything. 

Hmmm?

A watercolor sketch dated 2017.

I know I’ve opened the storage hassock plenty of times in the last 7 years. That is proof there has been a change of stuff put in there.

 Okay, discovery made, now what to do about it? 

Get back to the good things that were once important. That is the benefit of thinking about the past.