Changed From Their Original Condition

Smokin' Hot Tired Writing* and Fresh cards in The Artist's Deck

The thing I noticed the most at the end of September was that the fields had turned gold too soon, and some of them, not even at all. I grew up everywhere so I never lived anywhere long enough to become deeply acquainted with the intimacies and peculiarities of the seasons of a particular place. But we’ve called Ohio “home” for nearly 19 years and that’s a long time to practice the fine art of paying attention.

I’d hoped to see more color in the turning of the soybeans but it wasn’t a good year for the crops here, and when I lamented this to my husband, he told me that many farmers had declared their fields a loss this season. It made my gut ache, thinking about the work, and the prayers, and the hope that dried up beneath an August sun that burned hot into September, cooking everything beneath its gaze.

September was unusual here for so many reasons…

I made art but didn’t have time to talk about it. We bounced from thing to thing all month, and here we are mid-October.

Before we go any further, I should state this here: I am stupidly tired. Tired in my very soul. Weary to the bone.

“Changed From Their Original Condition” Mixed Media, #33, The Artist’s Deck, by Kris Camealy

Truth be told, looking over my shoulder at last month, I don’t hardly know which threads to chase down. The month began in high spirits, but wound down in a bit of a knot that I’m still working to untangle. My back decided to twist itself into a near paralyzing week of constant spasms just before I was scheduled to travel to teach at a gorgeous retreat in Pennsylvania. I made the trip on prayers, a steroid pack, and a palmful of muscle relaxers, and while I was away, (and upon my return), friends and family were affected by two major hurricanes. The grief and heartbreak still underwater there makes most of my news feel like sawdust in the mouth.