The bounce back

Leif was accepted into university in Scotland! He texted me all afternoon, sharing pictures of the cheesecake he was baking to celebrate with his girlfriend and her family. It’s wonderful news, he’s been working toward this for a long time. He still has to pass his AP exam to lock it in, but that shouldn’t be a problem for him. He and his girl are pretty serious, but they’ll need to part ways in the fall as they head to different schools. It will be rough for them, but often the people you love in youth stay loved for life. Maybe they’ll find their way back onto the same path, even if they have to take the long way around.

With the birthday a success and the good news from the boy, I started feeling light in the foot again. The weather has been trying on all its outfits, switching from sunny to snowy to hurricane-windy. Every day I stubbornly zipped up my coat and went out for a walk, splashing through slush and letting the wind blow me around Salt Pond like a lawn chair. Yesterday the winds suddenly stopped, and the temperatures dropped from 13 degrees to -13 in a matter of hours, freezing the spring melt into impossible patterns. Ice grew up from the moss in fragile stalks like mushrooms, the river shallows froze into ripples, and sticks of crystals branched across puddles. I had my nose tucked into my coat collar and couldn’t feel the tops of my legs through my jeans, but I felt happy again.

My painting hand is recovering, now that the shoveling is done and I’ve been rubbing Tiger Balm* into it while drinking anti-inflammatory turmeric tea and popping NSAIDS. A few days ago I had gotten exasperated about my failure to find gig work and threatened to start selling foot pictures, so I drew a big sarcastic panel of classical-style foot studies and started painted them in the evenings. Hands and feet are really good practice, because they are hard. You’ll see artists go through all kinds of compositional contortions to avoid drawing them. By the time I started getting the hang of it, I was feeling good enough to start a real painting again. (And I can replace my nearly-empty tube of white paint now - thank you F. for stuffing a bill in my pocket and giving me an encouraging shove in the right direction.)

I saw the first flower buds of spring, and gathered pussy willows that broke off their stems. People complain about winter, but nature really works at break-neck speed. Blink and you’ll miss it. I’m so glad to have seasons again, it makes time feel real. And me, too.

* My mother always kept a little Tiger Balm in the medicine cabinet. One day, on the reservation, our neighbor’s uncle came knocking because he heard she had some. He explained that he had been riding in the rodeo the day before and hurt himself. “I need some Tiger Balm for my groan.” “Huh?” “You know,” he rubbed the insides of his thighs, “my groan.” She went to get the tiny jar and said he could keep the rest, and he waddled away gratefully. Ever since, we have always used Tiger Balm to relieve our groans. (HEY TIGER BALM I HAVE AN AD CAMPAIGN FOR YOU.)