30 Day Challenge: Day 27 - reveling in the routine

Day 27 -It's no longer weird to spend ten minutes a day in the grass.  It happens.  Either in the morning (often), in the afternoon (occasionally) or in the evening (sometimes.) It's not weird to open a bill, immediately record it in the finance book (it's autopay so I don't have to write a check), and file it, instead of allowing weeks and weeks of paperwork to stack up on the desk.

It's not weird to put on Pandora and sit down and play with my pastels.  It's part of what I look forward to.  It's my little oasis of creative time.  Half the time I don't know what I'm going to make until I sit down to start.

Today I meddled in abstract expressionism, unabashedly copying the style and colors of an artist whose work I saw in a local art publication.   Let me tell you, next time you go to a gallery and see abstract art and think to yourself, "That looks easy - I could do that!", think again.  Abstract art is not just scribbling.

I've been sitting in the same spot for the past few days for my grass time.  I think it's a path the turtle regularly takes, in front of the brick edging.  I think I found her scat, full of berry seeds.  I sit in the grass and notice all kinds of treasures.  Feathers. Snail shells.  Tiny jumping spiders standing still then hopping two inches in a split second.  And today, this cicada shell.

The cicada larva, who lived under ground for months if not years, eventually emerged from the soil, its body still covered in dirt. It split its shell and climbed out, jewel-toned, and took to the sky.  It's probably still flying around up in the pine tree, singing its loud cicada song.

It's made a complete transformation.  A completely new routine.  It doesn't even look the same anymore.

Sometimes it's harder for us humans to recognize the changes from a shift in routine.  Especially if our surroundings appear to be mostly the same.  What I notice is that I can breathe, and I do breathe.  The little wind-up tension in my jaw rarely makes an appearance, and when it does, I pay attention and shift what I'm doing.

What almost unnoticeable shifts do you see happening for yourself?