Skimming for something to sketch, my eye was caught by the little Hedera sitting in the darkness of the hall. I like the pot I planted it in and thought it would make for a nice colourful exercise.
As I picked it up, I noticed some leaves were deadened, I already knew that. I would walk by it daily and kind of 'tut-tut' at the little plant failing to thrive.
Flanked by Ted (Dog) and Walter (Cat) I walked into my office (now becoming my studio) and placed the pot on the windowsill. I gathered my inks and paints, sat down and looked up at the Ivy... it looked different there. It looked... like it was now primed for bursting into big, green, life!
It occurred to me that this poor little thing had been struggling because by placing it in the hall, I had deprived it of the conditions it needed to thrive, to overflow in fertile abundance (as I like my plants to do).
I thought to myself: 'Self, how unfair of you to expect success from this ivy without having even given it a fair chance to perform.'
I have 4 plants in my kitchen, all lush and bold because they are afforded positions bathed in sunlight. I always compared this little guy against them, as if he was an inferior plant, a disappointment, letting the team down with it's performance out in the hall.
Our hall is narrow, dark and long, to put a little plant in there to brighten it up was unfair to the little thing. That's too much to ask!
As I painted, I realised what a fitting metaphor this was for my own withering self care at the moment. I've spent all day berating myself for the condition of my skin, my energy levels and my general appearance when I haven't been providing the necessary conditions for it to be any other way! I need to take myself out of the hall and find a window!!
I have to start hydrating for a start... now if only I could stop myself dipping my brushes into my drinking water!
Always, Amanda xx