Truth is....

I want to run around a huge empty field screaming. I don't want anyone to be around to ask me what's wrong, or to look at me like i'm a mad woman.
When i've finished screaming i want to lay down in the sun and go to sleep.
When i wake up, i want my life to be different. I want to be a person who makes a living from something that she is good at and she loves. I want to come home to someone who loves me and looks after me and i want to have more time for other people because my life is running pretty smoothly.
I don't want to be sitting here obsessing about my storytelling project and wishing i'd never started it. I don't want to be a person who doubts everything thing they do to the point where nothing ever gets finished. I shouldn't be doing this.
I should be looking for a job- since i left the one that was making me miserable and now only have two weeks savings left.
I don't want to work for that woman i met yesterday who, when i bounced in all friendly and enthusiastic about teaching photography again, gave me a limp handshake and talked to me in that way that only bitter post-menopausal women can talk to younger women ( i could tell she thought i was younger than i am). "You haven't got much experience, have you?"
But am i going to do any of this? Or am i just going to send her my cv and show her some prints (as if she'd know fine art printing from a picture in the local fucking newspaper) and will i try and make her like me so she'll give me the job, and then make myself miserable all over again.
Or maybe i shouldn't do any of the above and try and start up a garden design business. Forget about being a fucking artist, take that risk of self-employment -maybe it'll be easier second time around......
I kind of thought i could do all of the above, but maybe that's where i'm going wrong.

Dig this

There's a knock at the door.
"Flowers or something for you, love."
It's not flowers, not yet anyway.
It's a magnolia stellata that i ordered for myself on valentines day. It will be the second thing to flower in my new garden (after the crocus's).
I run some water into the sink (not too cold) and stand the pot there whilst i get my boots on. I'm going to plant it in the circular bed in front of the apple tree, but first i have to dig out all the clumps of grass that are in the bed, otherwise it just won't be right.
I love doing this. I love getting weeds out too. I love it when you have a patch of ground that needs clearing and you fork it over and pull out all those couch grass roots and green bits (with your fingers) so it's soil only. I love digging and breaking up great big lumps of clodding sods. I love the smell of soil and i love the way you can look back on your work and say, "I did that and it looks just how i wanted it to. Next year it will be beautiful, and for years after that if i look after it."

Dancing Lavender

The day that I got the offer on the house, i came home from work and went straight to the garden. It had been another gorgeous hot and sunny day.
I was saying goodbye to the house and especially the garden. I have a lavender hedge that i planted as soon as we moved in, and it was full of bees and butterflies- there were too many to count. Some of the butterflies were brown like moths and the others had white wings with just one spot on each side. It was so amazingly beautiful. The collective movement was activating the scent of the flowers and i really wished i had a video camera so i could have recorded that moment. A photograph wouldn't have done it justice.
I've been trying to think of a word to describe it: it was humming; it was buzzing; it was vibrating-it was dancing.