I’ve been having a hard time sleeping lately. Might have a little something to do with a certain event that I’m planning. Hm. In the past week my days have been overtaken by a decidedly diligent and dedicated work ethic as a get ready for my first ever art showing. I’m really motoring! It’s a very different kind of energy than the easy-flowing, meandering sort of path my work days usually take. I’ll even admit I’m enjoying the change of pace.

But at night, when I try to clear my thoughts and settle in for some quiet rejuvenation, this tidal wave of worry sweeps over me. What if my prints looks horrible? What if I go over budget? What if no one comes? What if people do come but they don’t like my work? what if people laugh at me? what if i fail…

Ack. Neuroses. It’s funny that when I’m awake and alert I can talk myself out of most of those anxieties. But in the dark, in the semi-conscious state… the darkest most hopeless thoughts float to the surface. Like rotting zombies! GaRWww!

But on the positive side, it’s not so bad to be awake at 3am on a wednesday morning. Dawn is a pretty special time.

In my stupor, I sat out on our balcony in the quiet sleepy city, watching all the various animals that share this urban environment with us wake up and begin their own morning rituals while the sky turned a delicate pink.

In a shady alley, two pigeons with ties to the mafia met clandestinely to exchange ze microfiche.

Two squirrels settled their differences once and for all with a fight to the death.

While unbeknownst to those below, a flock of gulls with surveillance cameras kept a watchful eye on the unfolding scene (lest anyone drop a pizza crust.)

And a pair of gossipy starlings met for a coffee and danish at their favourite perch.

Also, it turns out that the temperature outside at dawn is a pleasant, dewy 25 C. (for those of you not wilting along with me in toronto, this is just fantastic in comparison to the gruesome daytime temps we’ve been enduring lately: average of 33 C, feels like 43 C with the humidex. ugh.)

Perfect for an alfresco breakfast – local strawberries and blueberries, with goat yogurt, muesli and an espresso. yum.

My salvaged bakery bucket planters are looking decidedly bare now that the peas are done. But this little tomato volunteered to take up the baton, self seeded from the worm casting compost I enriched the buckets with in the spring, I imagine.

It’s even flowering and everything! Way to go, tomato.

And oh, who’s this?

Hello! Good morning, sun!

Watching the sun rise is insomnia’s silver lining.


3 Responses

  1. your post reminded me of this quote i came across last night as i was trying to find some cooling, moonlight inspiration for my yoga class last night:

    “A dreamer is one who can only find his way by moonlight, and his punishment is that he sees the dawn before the rest of the world.” –Oscar Wilde

    i’m still trying to figure it out! because it would seem quite the opposite to what you’re experiencing with moonlight bringing out rotting zombies…and seeing the sunrise is your gift! hmmm….

  2. anna, thanks for letting me share your morning adventures with you. it’s silly, but it makes me feel like i was right there sitting beside you with my own bowl of meusli in my lap. i hope you made voices for the animals. i would have.

    i miss you. i miss you more than usual this past week and a half.

  3. you need a massage! that’ll help you sleep.

    i wish i could make the trip north to see your show, i’m a big fan. . . it’ll rock, loads of people will come.

    remember: “worrying does not empty tomorrow of it’s troubles it empties today of it’s strength.” (from a merry engelbreit card

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