Slacks and I get up early. This week. Ever since my sister informed me that we humans sleep in cycles of 90 minutes I have been more inclined to get up at the first offering, 6:30, instead of the next stop, 8. The house is full of sleeping women and so I gather the essentials and make my way down the creaky stairs, waking every one of them I'm sure. Currently I live in the hallway. The nook actually, bed-sized alcove on the second floor. It is poorly constructed but lets in great light. Someday I will replace the aluminum windows and build a day bed. For now I am thankful to have a place to sleep. I rented out my cabin to a woman named Ashley. I like her. I liked her over email but kept my enthusiasm in check because email personalities are not the same as real personalities. I know this because the gmail me is much nicer, sweet and full of exclamations. In person I am reserved and discerning. Ashley is a photographer and wears her mom's silken overalls in stripes of faded silver. She dons a brimmed hat and her hair is cut short on the back and the sides. Within five minutes I asked her to live here. In a permanent way or as permanent as life can be when it is filled with self-induced change. I used to think I didn't like change. I used to think that I craved stability, a home, a partner, a dog. And I do, but that's not all. I crave routine- but the kind that changes from week to week. Right now I wake early and stroke a cat and sit and write in the chair with my coffee. Today I will work in the studio where Filly and my new line have all of my attention. Last week I was in Santa Cruz tending to relationships and creating a physical space for me and my community. Next week... perhaps turning the soil and planting Oriental Poppies for Spring. Teaching, sculpting, designing, building, selling Zinnias by the stem. This is not a messy life, it is an orderly rotation. Not a roulette wheel, where I bounce, small and scared, from one thing to another. More like a hand-held slide projector. When a slide falls into place, it's all I can see. And I stare and admire it with all my might. When the frame changes it is because I pulled the lever. And on I move.