Saturday, February 5, 2011
A year ago today I was sitting on a bench outside Union Station. I was facing a rare morning sunshine, yellow and orange.
I used to make a smoothie at the smoothie shop called "citrus sunrise" and it tasted just like that light looked like. Many's the citrus sunrise I have enjoyed, squinting and smiling contentedly facing the sun.
There was a pair of scrub jays trying to build a nest under the eaves of the roof, trying to be nonchalant and rather spoiling it by calling each other in that raw voice of theirs.
I was waiting for Anthony's bus to come in from Eugene, and although the bus was late and there could have been a lot of stress associated with this but there wasn't. There was a strange peace in that white, yellow and golden orange, waiting and waiting.
Waiting for what came next.
Three hours later I was in a hospital gown getting nervous about the knee surgery. Irrationally doubting the need for the whole business, remembering it was necessary as I hobbled to the bathroom across the hall. The difficulty in getting back into the bed. Getting anxious and weepy at the sight of tiny fat donkeys. Then the procedure, the pride of walking up TWO FLIGHTS OF STAIRS (with crutches and two helpers -- but I did walk) immediately afterward, and then the five months of physical therapy and recovery.
I was thinking of this as I knelt on my art desk's stool last night. I thought of it the day before in my yoga class, holding a lunge-type pose. During the six months of knee time last year both of these things were impossible. I thought about it during my brisk walk through the mist this morning, doing what I so badly wanted to do this time last year. I'm not absolutely perfect. The swelling has never really gone away entirely, I get fluctuation in feeling on my kneecap, and I am still in pain by the end of the day. But it's the dull ache of fatigue, not the sharp pain of BROKEN!, and as I sit and make pictures I can also apply ice and do stretches and rest.
And I can run and jump and squat and kneel, and I could walk forever if I needed to, and that's all I ever require of my knee.
Thinking of all this put me in an expansive mood, so drew this on much bigger paper than I've been working on. And in pure marker which is something I don't do often. Needed to loosen up. I also visited the Launchpad today and had a series of exciting conversations with one of the geniuses behind Geoloqi. Many other big drawings on big paper were made. Big feelings were had.
It was a big day. It was a big day last year too, so it's fitting.