Nashville, TN: Today, I woke up at 4am. I laid in bed, looking at the clock, noticing it had not changed since I last looked -- which seemed like hours ago. I couldn't seem to get comfortable -- there was a dull pain throughout my back, probably due to the 90 mins. massage and the 90 mins. hot yoga and the 3o mins. in the hot tub I crammed in the day before. Plus, my mind just wouldn't QUIT. Nothing too major, nothing more than I'm used to. I just couldn't seem to get back to the rest I so desperately need.
I panicked for a moment -- is this like the 4ams in years past? I went through a period of waking up each morning to the same nightmare. You know the kind (and if you don't, be grateful) -- the times when you are jolted out of sleep, gasping for air as if you had been running from a man with a knife and there is a split second of wondering "did that happen? was that real?" Then slowly, the reality of heartbreak, the actuality of loss creeps over and covers you, like paint crackling through a newly painted wall. The silence is deafening and the tears simply won't stop. You are acutely aware that you. are. alone.
But THIS morning at 4am, I took a deep breath in through my nose, let it fill up my lungs and felt my belly rise. I held it a moment then slowly let the stale air escape out of my slightly parted lips. I reassured myself: it is NOT that nightmare, I am safe in my home and I am not alone. Well, at this moment, technically, I am, but in my world at large, I know I am very loved.
However, I was still uncomfortable and I still couldn't sleep. So, I got up, slipped into a pair of fuzzy socks, snuck down the stairs and silently walked into my studio. I've decided to make a few art pieces for Christmas gifts and haven't gotten around to actually making them yet. So I flipped on a few lights, and in the quiet, begin creating 4am art.
After I transfered a photo onto a piece of
Polaroid 669 film and helped the ink dry, I dunked it into the 160° F water and gently shook the pan back and forth. I watched the image gingerly separate from its backing but before it has a chance to dissolve, I scooped up the thin film that was left and placed it in a pan of room temperature water.
There, it relaxed and spread out to become a real photo again. Gingerly, I took it out of the water and placed it on a mirror. I tried to maintain the balance of working with it quickly enough before it dries, but slowly enough that I don't tear it. After a few attempts of smoothing, I held it back and marveled at my creation. I have missed making art. I have missed this feeling of completing a project.
And then I needed a little company.
Scrolling through my iPod, I turned on the speakers and searched for someone to invite into my studio and my thoughts. Ahhh... there she was. Just the person who would get me being up at 4am. Just the person who would enjoy this art project. Just the person who would laugh at my fuzzy socks.
"The journey to You leaves us so tender, a breeze could break our hearts. So talk to us in whispers and sweet silence until we can walk again. Be present with us, O God, even as we take our rest. And strengthen our desire for courage."
From Hither & Yon: A Travel Guide for the Spiritual Journey
And with that, I retreated back to bed, feeling accomplished and exhausted, and got a couple more hours of sleep before my day REALLY began. I am grateful for art that is always available and for words that serve as a sweet bedtime story, even at 4am.
And I hope she likes her gift.
