Mud and Hands and Water

Good morning Dear Ones! Today’s draft is inspired by a The Great Gatsby, sort of. Hear me out: I was thinking about The Great Gatsby, and the wonderful, meaningful symbolism of the optometrist’s billboard. I was using this to beat myself up about my imperfect drafts. Then it occurred to me: F. Scott Fitzgerald didn’t wake up and write down all the interconnected symbolism. Academics pulled that out later, much later. Fitzgerald sat down and write a draft. Then another one. And possibly another.

Trust the process.

Text within this block will maintain its original spacing when publishedThis vase did not appear like that --fully formed with perfect proportions,the curve that makes you think of hillsides, gentle waves, geese on the wing.It started as mud in the earth, mud in the hands of someone who knows how to trust.Trust the mud, the water, the spinning wheel.Trust the muscles of the hands,the dirt lodged into the whorls of the fingernails.Trust the breath and the heartbeat, the gentle rotation of the earth that offers you another day to try again,another handful of mud, bucket of water,another spinning wheel,an invitation to live in the space of the unfinished.