Last night me and my husband Paul grabbed a blanket and some pillows and lied down in our front lawn. The night, still breezy from Hurrican Irene, was pleasantly Fall like, and the stars were out. Brillant and clear we could make out the Milky Way. It wasn't the best I've ever seen, but it was pretty awesome being that it was my front yard. I remember thinking I could only count 7 stars back in West Newton, and here, I was not able to count for there was so many of them.
I thought about how the stars are so much bigger than our little lives, so much more permanent than our split second life spans here on earth. It reminds me, deep inside that nothing really matters. Perhaps someday one of my paintings will become a museum piece, and outlast me by a few hundred years. In time, all I create will melt back into the universe and all that I am, do or say will once again be hinted only in star dust drifting across the sky. Hope some of my dust makes another see a shooting star, and another wish, another dream is created on another starry night, far, far away in another galaxy.
Til then, I must remember my small little world, of disappointments, of frustrations means little. The only things that matter are being true to yourself, being strong against the tides, and above all to create love and beauty when all else fails.