Is the Universe Organized?

Fingerpainting
My days are not organized since I left work. My position dissolved a couple weeks ago and some odd days.

Odd days.

My days are haphazard except for the first part of the morning.

I get up. I brew my coffee. Make the bed. And.

Well, today I didn't make the bed. Scratch that. I made banana nut muffins instead which turned into banana pudding frisbees because I used baking powder instead of baking soda.

I Cannot believe I still make that same mistake as an adult,  forgivable as a child.

Today.

Today, I reverted back to childhood.  More like childlike play. And its wonderful,  I highly recommend it.

I started the day reading a fascinating book called Birdmania by Bernd Brunner. I am going to enjoy this book. I have been a bird watcher, bird feeder, an aficionado of everything birds since I was a child. Unfortunately,  my foray into the bird world was initially tragic- I accidentally killed my Spanish Grandmother's canary when I was four years old. I tried to catch and hold him, when my Grandmother innocently forgot to close the door to her bird room.

It is one of those horrible childhood mistakes I've tried to make up for my whole life.

I've volunteered at wild bird rescue feeding ferociously hungry baby crows. In every backyard of every house, ranch and farm I've lived at, I've spent countless hours and dollars putting up bluebird houses, barn owl houses, suet, and seed.

My sisters will tell you stories of how I mixed concoctions of peanut butter and oatmeal forming them into balls like Christmas cookies for my specialized feeders.

Still. My Grandmother's singing canary haunts me.

This afternoon,  I put down the Bird Book to paint. I planned on painting a bird. Maybe the pigeons that strut along the rooftops, I watch from my bedroom window. Or a yellow finch on a bare branch under a winter sky.

I started my brush, designing my bird. Within minutes,  my fingers took over, tossing the paintbrush aside. I watched them take over. My fingers dipping into the paint, swirling this way and that. Squeezing bottles of color. Purple. White. So bold. And courageous,  they even dipped into my craft supplies,  salting the canvas with sprinkles.

I let them play.

I let them organize the universe with my hands.


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