Affairs of the Heart

Love is a process.

You start with a dream, an imagining. It seems so perfectly full of potential and immediate possibility that you stumble, you fall for it. The spark is lit.

The spark is full of what's most appealing. It doesn't matter if it's the shape of the hand or the color of the fiber it's the attraction that compels you. You commit more time, talent and attention to this affair because the intrigue has gotten to you. Pierced you like an arrow as you venture down the path.

After attraction comes playfulness - a silly date, a scrap of yarn - something frivolous and fun. You’re spontaneous. You’re light as a feather and moving fast. One thing leads to another and before you know it the confetti is flying, your laughing your head off and trying things you never thought possible. Who knew purple would have this result? Why hadn't you ever found this restaurant before?

Fatigued from so much falderal, you pause to reflect. 

In the stillness and the quiet you notice the flaws. Too much red. Too much Red Bull. But you’ve come this far. You like what you see – for the most part anyway. Is it salvageable?

That's when the plot and your blood thickens. Your intentions have shifted. Your engagement has changed. You embellish, replace and repair. Layers on layers add richness and depth – while hiding the flaws. You impart meaning into each movement, each stitch. Everything has meaning for you now or you wouldn’t bother with it at all. You’ve reached the point of no return. You are committed to bringing this to fruition, to realize the dream.You’re making a huge effort now. It’s become work. But you’re patient, focused, brave and genuine. And instead of inspiration pouring in, everything is pouring out. It’s you. Pouring your heart out. Pouring your heart into it. Until you love it.

Love is a process.