Sugaring with the neighbors yesterday. I love their old-school, hand made set up. I love the sweet clouds of steam, and how everything feels hopeful and grand standing around the evaporator watching the sap bubble and thicken. Hours pass, easily, occupied this way. Bean was all helper this year. Carrying wood. Pouring sap from the metal tap buckets into the big plastic five gallon bucket to be filtered and poured. He even got to strike the match to light the fire up. This is his boyhood. This is what he will remember. This is why we are here, even though things are so tenuous financially right now that at any moment we might slip, and have to leave. So. This is why I'm throwing my heart into trying to make A Field Guide To Now. This is why there is a lump in my throat at night, when I can see how it might not reach that stupid enormous funding goal (that also feels so small.)
Last year ate our savings. Last year ate everything. This year, who knows? This year, the outcome is anyone's guess. We could move. We could stay. It's all up in the air, illusive as the steam, as tender as the first fat buds.
So that's the truth. I want this life more than anything.
Also: You can win this painting.