We finally moved to Virginia, and after months of planning the move--boxing our life up and then unboxing, we are finally here. And I have this feeling (fear) that I am losing touch with my creative self. Days go by and I don't get to the computer or have an interesting thought in my mind. I don't mean to complain too much. After all, so many good thing have happened this fall. We live in a magical house on top of a hill that backs up onto miles of woods. At night it's so dark, we see only the stars and the moon. No street lights, no neighbors, nada. Sometimes the coyotes howls and wake us the middle of the night. But some days, in the mornings I find myself looking in the mirror and asking, where's Alice?
Okay, that needs some explanation, but I think of Alice as my creativity, my magical side, the girl who dives down rabbit holes day after day. There's no place like a rabbit hole. But sometimes Alice goes down there alone while I go about my business. And she begins to shrink. Alice being Alice likes to shrink.