Step 6: Go on a date

I went on a date today. I was looking forward to it for over a week, and it was as good as I expected it to be.

If you've read The Artist's Way like I'm reading it right now, you'll know what I mean by Artist Date. The date is a weekly outing you take by yourself to be inspired, to have fun, to get a change of scenery, to recharge. This week I picked the Knit, Purl, Sow exhibition at the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens.

I was smitten, sight-unseen, when I first heard about the show, and going to see it in person was the perfect way to treat myself to a date. The art pieces were larger-than-life botanicals made out of knitting. Seriously. How cool is that?

After walking through the exhibit, I sat down and sketched some of the pieces in my tiny sketchbook I bought especially to use on Artist Dates so I could remember them later when my spirit needs a pick-me-up.

An elderly man sat on the bench next to me and we had a conversation. At one point, he leaned closer to me and asked if I was a knitter. I told him no. "I like to draw," I said. "You do?!" he said in surprise and pulled back up straight. I was drawing the whole time we talked, but I guess some people don't pay that much attention to what's right in front of them.

As he left, I said, "Have a good day," and he said, "How could I not? Every day you're alive is a good day."

I've had a bunch of bad days in recent months, and the man's comments reminded me that I'm set out to have as many good days as I can bank. You've got to store up the good ones to see you through the bad ones, I've learned. But sometimes you don't get an entire day that you'd count as good, so I'm learning to pay more attention to the good moments, even if they last just a minute. Sitting on a bench in a gallery sketching knitted renditions of giant flowers talking to an old man about how he takes his wife to art exhibits counted for a few good moments.

Later, at home, I received bad news in an email that hurt my heart. There's no script to follow, as someone reminded me recently, when you receive bad news. You're on your own.

I picked up my little sketchbook and colored pencils, and I filled in the outlines like a little girl with a coloring book. I colored until my whole universe was on that page and I could live there.

I don't want to show up empty-handed, even on a notebook page. Especially on a notebook page. I need to bring something to it, give myself, and that's where living a life comes in handy. What happens in life goes through my soul and ends up, somehow in some way, on the page. Good or bad, like it or not, that's where I am.

Tonight I went to a book club meeting up the street. I brought salad, friends brought wine and cookies and cheese and crackers, and the host made chicken with cream, mushrooms, and noodles. Now that I'm home again, I will read some, draw some if I'm not too tired, pray, and then I will go to sleep with a cat or two next to me and with my notebook set up for early morning writing.

I'm alive and on the page, and that, I know, means it was a good day.