Joy is kind of quiet right now. I’ve had a few moments of this in the last few days. At the Museum on Thursday Louise, the museum director, told us about a creative writing teacher from the local university who came to see the show. She said to Louise, “Martha Kennedy’s a painter? She’s also a writer.” It’s the kids running down the alley in the snow to get and give a hug. It’s the sweet, silent serenity of the San Luis Valley after snow. It’s the book I’m reading, No Horizon Is So Far.
Joy is not all transcendent rapture. The Avett Brothers song I’ve posted here before (and have again below) has two lines that say it all, to me, “Accolades and happy days, They don’t ever last…” The main reason it’s “the little things” is because the big things are so ephemeral.
They’re not meant to last. There’s no way we could live at that pitch day in and day out.
In other news, I’m about to start painting garden signs with garden sayings on them. Because after Christmas come….