Sometimes I get it when I run my forefinger around the rim of a glass and it makes a sound that lingers. Or when I'm out and about and I hear the sound of a train in the distance. When I put on a fresh pair of socks and turn over the cuff so that I don't have a sock mark. When I'm waiting for the kettle to boil and there's enough time to dip my banana into a small plate of salted peanuts, when my eldest is at school and I can eat nuts guilt free, because he has an allergy you see. Sometimes, it happens when I sing a song and I find I can hit that note that I couldn't before and all without going into falsetto. When I've scrubbed and moisturised my children and combed cleaned hair and prepared it samurai style ready for bed. I get it when I glance at the fresh flowers my mum buys me. I get it when I buy a film I really love and I leave it in its cellophane waiting for a perfect moment to watch it.
I've had that feeling a lot the last few days. I started drawing again. I have a clear project in mind, it's been brewing for a quite a while. It's taken some time to get here and there has been much hunting and gathering and piecing together and now I have a story. I know how it begins and I think I know what's going to happen in the middle and the end, well, I have an inkling but we'll see. I feel excited. I'm waking up in the middle of the night and making notes kind of excited. I'm happy about this, I've missed that happy restlessness.
Today I chose a title for the work that I have begun. Sometimes a title comes at the end after the work has evolved. This time it has come earlier, it has been stirring me and calling me. I must trust it, that feeling. Trust that it is telling me something that I need to hear. I'm willing and I'm listening, listening out, for changes, for danger, for story. I am believing without seeing and drawing close to the warmth, to what feels like home. And when I close my eyes and darkness becomes me, I think of the lesson that I am learning, that 'The Best Songbirds Learn To Sing in the Dark'.