A partially obscured, but still bright waning moon greets me this campervan morning. She peaks out from cloud cover every now and again to momentarily bathe the ground in light. It’s chilly, but once again I feel it’s been colder. That said thick steam from the much needed early morning coffee circles in the air, my hands curled around its ceramic body for some finger tip warmth, plus there is a promise of colder to come over the next few days. No breeze so everything hang still, the occasional moonlit moment brings the oak and ash into focus, before cloud obscures her once more. So I sit under the oak and write by intermittent moonlight. The writer Nathaniel Hawthorne once wrote ;
“ Moonlight is sculpture; sunlight is painting “.
I have really had a sense of what he means over the last couple of mornings sitting here and writing and witnessing the mornings reveal themselves.
The birds are yet to rise, it’s circling planes and morning motorway drone for aural company, for now anyway. Though as I continue to sit the aural unfolding begins with a solitary robin, a crow and a far off duck and so it slowly unveils. The coffee is almost cold already. I spent some time rereading parts of Rick Rubin’s tome ‘The Creative Act ‘ where he talks of the absurdity of competition and writes ;
“ You are creating the work that best represents you “
And that ;
“ In the end, you are the only one who has to love it. This work is for you “.
So this morning it’s only you that has to love it, what you create is for you, what you do is for you, it represents you. So reflecting on what day to create this morning as the light improves and the world wakes up. Lovely days people.
“ For life is a journey through a wilderness”. Bruce Chatwin.
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