A week ago when we were at our Saturday place for cinnamon buns (a local artisan bakery which we love), I saw a photo on the wall that came from the next door art store. It is of a bit of a dark 'spot' in the trees. Like a quiet place one might find to go and sit. Rays of sunshine are making their way through the branches to light to it a little at a time. I fell in love with it. I've never felt a connection with a photo the way I do with that one. It was on my mind the moment we walked in the store. To say it spoke to me sounds cheesy but that is absolutely true. I felt deep down that I needed to have it. It was $175. I didn't have the money for it but I couldn't take the risk of it disappearing.
I went next door and spoke with the store owner. I told her something was drawing me to that picture and that I wanted it but I didn't have the money right. She told me for $5 down, it is mine and I can pay as I can until I reach the total. No time limit. "You should have an emotional experience when you buy a piece of art."
I nearly cried. I had no worries about committing to the price. (That was quite surprising in itself!) She let me take a small sold sign to place on the picture and I couldn't have been happier. Something in that picture speaks a truth to me that I am only beginning to understand.
I got home and was glancing through Facebook. Sweet One said she wanted to see "that picture". I pulled up my profile picture, saw my father holding me at about 1 year old and both of us completely covered in diaper cream. I looked at the date in the lower right corner of my computer. 9 months ago today he died.
So much is churning inside of me. One thing is somehow connected to the next. I'm singing again, I'm finding beauty in things I see. But most of all, I'm learning to trust my inner voice.