The Uncultivated Life

Today, sitting in my office (car) feels like I’m in Hausschue, or my jeans are on backwards. I know the jeans are just fine, and after looking down at my feet, I’m good there, too. Just feeling out of sorts, I guess. Busy. Tired. Startups are relentless.
Had a great morning meeting with another crazily talented buddy of mine, a fine wood craftsman, among other talents that include ethereal, luminously foiled glass panels and body casting. I’m going to help, as best I can, get some of his website content in line, on top of everything else going on. But what I’m finding out, is that, once you find something you really enjoy doing, you’ll make it happen. And between The Grande Dalles work—Scott’s and my endeavor—and The Little House on The Hill—more my deal-io, like The Uncultivated Life—there is a certain invigoration that keeps me going. The same way little Sam does. And if you’re not going, what else are you doing? Exactly. My old Swiss Oma would always say, “Leben ist Bewegung, und Bewegung ist Leben.” (Life is movement and movement is life.) I rarely ever saw her in slippers.