When your personal symbolism is embarrassingly obvious...
When I had my unexpected but lovely little ride on Wednesday, I had a moment of strong visceral memory in which I felt all fizzy as though I were a teenager galloping alongside Hadrian's Wall again. We weren't galloping on Wednesday, we weren't even hacking, and our little canter was rather lazy... but the memory was there and I could feel it in my body.
The other night, I dreamed I was running. I haven't really run in years and I've never been especially good at it (think core strength was always the thing missing actually, my posture would collapse before my legs or lungs ever struggled), but I do recall enjoying that feeling of speed. Or more specifically, that feeling that there's more "in the tank", that you have power that you can access if you need to. That you can trust your body in the way that you can trust a horse's.
On Thursday, I began drawing. A while ago I had the thought that a colouring book might be a good way to raise some funds for the stables I volunteer at. I gave it no thought beyond, "use CreateSpace, do horsey drawings" as I was too busy and had to shelve the idea for a later date, but I guess I thought I'd do a variety of things... different breeds, different patterning, some mythical, some educational (skeletons, tack and such). But then when the urge to draw suddenly took me on Thursday, it was for winged horses.
Winged horses and feathers and stars and skies everywhere. I've made eight drawings so far (two more almost done) and research suggests you'd want about 30 for a decent colouring book. What I'd like to try to do is get them done over Christmas, then scanned in and cleaned up in Photoshop or something, but we'll see how it goes.
But that isn't the interesting or lovely part. The lovely part is that this current post-studio partial-hibernation mode (we've still loads to do, but I'm properly relaxing in-between work days) is freeing up my energies once again. And in feeling more free, I am beginning to want to explore that physically. I had to move the boat the other day, and even just that tiny bit of steering has kickstarted a wish for a little trip out. And though I still feel somewhat ruined from a month of sitting sewing, I can feel my energy returning and my numb hip is starting to work again. I want to move. Winged horses everywhere.