Shadowed Doveworks

When it really started to sink in that this stay-at-home quarantine order was turning into a lifestyle choice for the rest of the world, I realized that this was it: this was what I had always wanted but never dreamt would happen: The rest of the world would slow down to my pace. It's been glorious. I've been able to reconnect with my partner and build more quality time together. I've been able to breathe and allow myself the time and space to finally focus on my healing. I've been able to chase down projects and crafts I've always wanted to try, guilt-free, because while everyone else was baking their sourdough loaves, I was building a kitchen table and growing an herb garden. Seasons turn, and what had been my lush, green experiment crowding the deck and necessitating custom-built plant-boxes turned into Project Overwinter when I realized I hadn't gotten tired of it yet. So this happened: This is an old shot, from back in November. I learned a lot from having ...

Every story has a beginning, even if it doesn't have a middle or an end-- without the beginning there'd be no story at all. This story - my story of digging deep and searching for what I really believe in - is actually a continuation of a much older one; or it's a remix since I'm starting all over but I've at least got some of the pieces to work with. I've been putting this off  far too long, like I put everything off. Well, thank St. Vyvanse that I have a little better handle of my executive dysfunction. And thank Renee for inviting me into a silly pothead pagan group on Facebook but that's apparently what it took for me to get started again: being in a space with likeminded people. Go figure. So we (re)begin with I'm high and this is Witchcraft , the RVA polypagans, my scattered collection of high school friends, and one closet garden. Yes, I said closet garden.