CHASING DOWN THE MUSE:

“The good of today is based upon the good of yesterday, whether our lives are magnificent or wretched depends upon our ordering of daily details.”

— Deng Ming-Tao

The long, hot summer, it has been filled with moments; filled with opportunities and dazzling reminders of the generosity of spirit that does exist. And these moments all are so precious in their attention to essential details.

Still weeks away from the equinox, the crisp cool of fall can be felt in the air certain moments of the day. This, however, is not one of them as I sit in my booth at the soon-to-end Sawdust Festival. My mind turns the moments of this summer over and over as I sit in a mid-week lull.

Long walks in the water along the beach began many of my days, but at one time or another, the days ended up here where I write this; here, in booth #229 at the Sawdust Festival. Here is where the ordering of the details has come together for nine weeks of yesterdays.

I look across the aisle at Hailey Meister’s blue eyes and red hair as she bounces into her mom, Laurel’s, booth.

One of the many pleasures of my summer has been to get to know this family a bit better. Soon they will be back in their Bluebird Canyon home and we will be distant neighbors.

Certainly, the Meister family, along with so many others, has had to attend to many, many details in the past year since the landslide. Certainly, the good of their today has come about through an “ordering of daily details” both on their part and on that of generous members of the community as well.

Suzette Rosenthal writes up a sale. I watch from my elevated perch. Getting to know her as friend and artist has certainly been a high note of the weeks here at this summer’s Sawdust Festival. Her friendliness and generosity glow from her golden booth space.

Marlyse Ruess — she of the lovely Swiss accent and graceful ways — walks by without looking up. How many times have I surprised her with a greeting from up here, high in my booth? In the moment, I recall many long, muggy afternoons in July getting to know her and others here as we languished in the heat.

Smiling broadly, Skip Roma walks by on the way to the tall booth shared with Brian Allen. I have known her for more years than I can begin to recall, but have gained a new appreciation of her and her many talents during these past nine weeks. Nine weeks, can they really have passed so quickly? My mind wanders off-center.

The day drifts on and my mind with it. Has summer formed itself into a composition that pleases me, that provides meaning to the whole of my life? I believe that it has, for I have tried to follow my own and Anna Quindlen’s advice: show up, listen, try to laugh. And I would add a learning piece, for I always try to learn something as I go about my days. Perhaps this is how I find meaning in my own life; much of this meaning coming from the example of others.

Reem Khalil — she of the high-energy caring soul. How could I not learn something as I watched her through the long summer days? Stephanie and John Cunningham also have shown me so much and I have picked and chosen what I might use for myself from their lessons.

Susan Wade, of the easy and rippling laugh, has been so delightful to observe as she interacts from that same, generous heart I have seen in so many of my fellow artists.

I realize that I cannot even begin to name all the moments — the details — that have arranged themselves around me in just this summer, in just this Sawdust neighborhood. But I can say with certainty that they are details that are like building bricks in my life. One upon another, they are part of a comprehensive whole, the beauty and goodness of which I may not fully realize until more days have passed.

Because of the moments of the yesterdays, today is good; today is, in fact, magnificent.

As a more famous voice than mine once said, “Thanks for the memories.”