Good Grief 127

So here they are! I'm a bit chuffed.
I want to set sail on them.
I want to see the sun shining through sea glass and to feel the joy of the life of a driftwood dinghy that has come into being, found a shape and a new life.
Still, for now, it is here - it exists in the creation of these and motivates me with a purpose and helps me to want  to go and take them to my friend. The extra sense of something to take, something to give, something of mine, something of myself, something other than the emptiness and prevailing sadness. Objects of love - given objects that carry and transport a cargo of love across from one person to another.
That drilled hole, that piece of threading, that placing of one piece against another, that fixing of one part into the whole ... every single act an investment of attention and care and appreciation and gratitude.
The object sets sail and is free.
I feel the release of giving it, of letting it go.

This is the problem, when that energy has nowhere to go.
I am so glad of it.
Yet, as I head home I sink quickly, and am not unsurprised.
The quicksand of the self that briefly took shape soon dissolves once again, dispersing, once again, into that vast uncertain ocean of unknowing.