And I'm wiped out. Spending yesterday rearranging books (there's still piles on the floor around my apartment yet to be dealt with, but oh the pleasure of picking up and handling a much loved tome and maybe reading a poem or some lines from one I forgot and all the memories and sensations rushing back of purely "artistic" pleasure, though as sensual and soul satisfying as any other kind) and this blog page (adding images of some of my books to the right etc.).
And then today spending time at a framer's trying to choose frames and mattes or not etc. for a few pieces I'd been meaning to get off the piles in my little alcove office and behind glass to keep them from getting any more browned by the sun and the air or stained from accidents etc.
Pushing my independence and relishing it, I mean in terms of my recovery, maybe a little too much of a cognitive workout. Found my brain turning off somewhere halfway through the frame(s)-decision(s) session (after having driven right past the place initially, though I knew exactly where it was etc. but couldn't remember suddenly).
So, a more restful and less brain busy weekend is my intention. But not too restful.