Captains Log 1/3/20, Wind
This blog is about living aboard a boat in the Pacific Northwest and snow-birding to Arizona while training an artificial intelligent mental health virtual assistant named Rubi ready to provide support in the traumatic aftermath of COVID-19.
Last night the wind was between 30 and 50 knots all night and kept me up. Tonight, was supposed to be a repeat, if not a steady 45 knots all night. Renee happened to call me and offered her converted barn/cozy cabin with pellet stove and luxury bathroom for me to spend the night with the dogs. So, I packed up my toiletries and pups and made the almost hour drive one island over via Deception Pass bridge.
When I got to Renee’s however, they were not home. I phoned, left a message, and though the barn was unlocked, didn’t want to overstep my welcome and make myself at home. As I was just about to leave, headlights came down their long drive way and Renee and husband were back returning from dinner.
Laying in Renee’s guest bed with the pups on the floor on their beds from the truck, I was reminded of being back at home in my childhood bedroom.
I was reminded of my mother and the excitement I’d feel when I’d wake up to see a mini city built out of construction paper and shoe boxes. My mom had made it a frequent occurrence to build elaborate creations, overnight, to leave on the coffee table for me in the morning. I guessed that my mom, having trouble sleeping, and my grandma in attempts to keep her busy, would give her craft supplies and she’d stay up all night and making me mini cities complete with buildings, cars with moving parts and people made of folded and glued construction paper, popsicle sticks and pipe cleaners. By the time I was awake for my surprise, she was in bed sound asleep and I’d play with the city’s cars and people all morning while eating breakfast.
When I got back to the boat, Tom had been by to finish the canvas on the aft cabin. As I examined it and took video of it to send to James, its fit was so precise and looked fabulous! I was thoroughly impressed, glad we had paid Tom to the project and was grateful for the current craftsmen in my life.
I was also reminded of my grandparent’s encouragement of not only my mom to be crafty, but my own childhood freedom to explore creativity. Grandma’s discipline orderliness, cleanliness, schedule of meals lent to exploring unbridled intellectual and creative freedom. There is something to a conservative, exacting schedule that leads to the best work. This atmosphere was something I thrived in and cherished. I see it as something the whole world desperately needs.
I was also grateful that this creativity and intellectualism translated to academics of the late 90s in public school and resulted in a full ride scholarship to college. I thrived at university until I returned home to my grandparent’s illness, which spiraled into a quick trip into growing up and responsibility. Upon their death, I had a shocking extreme grief reaction, then quickly, I had jobs in publishing in which I felt like I was emerging from trauma with baby steps as I did each tedious task in Photoshop. As my own creativity began colliding with these jobs and took over into my own projects, I feel like now, and just now, I’m getting back to this unbridled creativity and intuition to guide my reality. I’m using this creativity and intuition to explore of my new normal.