When you haven’t written in so long it’s easier to keep on not writing. But, in the back of your mind, the words and letters keep churning and jumbling up and into empty space until you get them written down in a tangible form. While I have been drawing pictures, it’s the words that weren’t making sense to me and therefore I did not write.
These last six months have been nothing but life changing. I haven’t found God or anything like that but I have found the courage to live more honestly and to trust in those people whom, let me, into their lives. You can’t help but wonder how you could have lived the way you did for such a long time repeating gesture after gesture after ever after.
There is solace in repetitive movement and even in the the state of inaction… the ticks, the drinks, the inhalations, the thoughts, the running, the drawing, the writing, the eating, the frantic screaming, it all soothes anxiety and mends the hearts of troubled souls irregardless of how temporary or destructive in nature this self-soothing may be. We can only go on circling for so long in a state of chaos before spinning out.
So, last night I made some chunky orange lemon marmelade from scratch. That sums up my everything.
AND FYI… Handmade 2013 desk and wall calendars are listed for sale in the shop.
The Marmelade recipe I adapted from the Mad Scientist and home Cooking. Also, I used an extra amount or orange peelings that I have been freezing over the last few months. If you are going to make marmalade DO USE certified organic citrus fruit as the peelings are not sprayed or died.
It’s about walking and talking and sharing our experiences with one another. It’s about laughing as much as it is about crying or being angry and frustrated.
Maybe it’s more about trust than judgement. And maybe life is just that; life until it ends.
Pushing your way through life, really, is no fun. And being pulled through life isn’t really about living either. When one is pushed one ends up in the future anxious and unable to focus in the present and when one is pulled kicking and screaming away from the past it’s almost enough to make one want to end it.
I tend to go into the future a lot. Not so much lately, but in the recent past, most certainly.
And I’ve kind of decided that life isn’t fair and that life is not about equality and that equilibrium, while it may exist is most surely out of whack here in the 21st century as we transition into the unknown.
So many run-on ideas have been colliding in my head since late January…
Photo credit – Jessica Doyle
What’s your poison? Chocolate? Video-games? LSD?
Artists have become notorious for substance use, addiction, and a good measure of crazy, which is probably intertwined with our ability and our need to make art. Not that all of us are crazy (yeah, right) and not that we’re all addicted to chemical head changes.
Or… are we?
As artists, our way of processing things, everything, is a bit different than people who don’t have the inclination to make art. We feel everything strongly, we see color differently, we look past reality into a world that doesn’t exist without our imagination. That in itself is a bit trippy, and we wouldn’t have the wherewithal to make grand, fantastical statements out of paint, thread, or music without a tendency to latch onto the emotional vibration of life. It’s not that everyone doesn’t do this to a degree, but artists take emotion to a whole new level. We breathe emotion into life. Often in beautiful, awe-inspiring ways. There’s an ebb and flow to be sure, with much of our time spent in frenzied creativity, overflowing with inspiration and ideas, high on nothing more than our need to create.
But there’s a flip side. Sometimes, if not properly nurtured, our emotional processing skills get broken. Sometimes everything gets black and dull and scary. Continue reading
Sometimes I just want to slap myself.
I have terrible mood swings regarding my art. One minute I think my work looks great and my career is going to be swell and everything is awesome. The next, I downward spiral into despair that nothing looks good, nothing is working, I’m a hack, it’s going to fail, people will laugh and mock and cry.
It’s all part of my process.
Generally at some point during every single painting I’ve ever made, I love it; I think it’s the best work I’ve ever done. At another point, with every single painting I’ve ever made, I hate it. It’s trash. It’s not worthy of continuing. And I do this back and forth throughout the entirety of creating each piece until I’m finally happy and satisfied with it. Continue reading
Why is it that when you really like someone you get all crazy and can’t contain yourself and blurt out the wrong things and repeat yourself, asking the same questions over and over from sheer excitement because you do indeed like the man. These last few months have been nothing but extraordinary for me and I’m desperately trying to plant my feet on the ground again which over the last week has happened in a most intense and disastrous way.
I need downtime and traditionally January through to April have been the months when I steel the time to be alone or in one on one calm atmospheres to create, paint, write and choose to be home more often than not.
I’ve lost the ability to write openly and freely here on my blog because everyone knows about it now, especially here in my hometown, and I’m doing my best to come to terms with this and kicking myself for allowing said outside sources to dictate what I could and could not legitimately write about last year.
Have you ever found the honesty, respect, integrity and intimacy you’ve been searching for in a man only to have it hit you in the soul so blatantly hard that it makes you step back and go is this f#$%ing real? Then your wall falls down and you are so vulnerable and cold and shaking and needing warmth yet terrified to let someone else take control. And then they take control and you hurt and shake like nothing you have ever felt before because they choose to leave and do the opposite of what you hoped for?
I’m just over seven weeks smoke free #Quitsmoking um… yeah and ohhhhhhhhh so grateful that I stopped smoking for myself and for no one else or I’d likely be smoking again given the life circumstances that have arisen and that I seem to have found myself in and facing over the last seven weeks.
I haven’t been a man’s girlfriend in a very long time and I’d like to know what that feels like again for real. This isn’t really a finished blog post or even one that makes complete sense… but…
You should never trust so blindly or simply give up. Plain and simple… really?
I give up. And yes, giving up is a choice and this doesn’t mean that it’s a negative choice. It’s just a choice to change direction and reevaluate why doing the same things over and over again and expecting different results is an exercise in futility.
A couple of years ago, as I approached a new decade, I decided that I was no longer going to be bashful in my 30s. To me this meant developing the strength I knew was there, and blossoming into the perpetual self-confidence I felt I deserved but never embraced. Why shouldn’t I? I was young, healthy, smart. I had good ideas, and with a little hard work, a great future.
Suffice it to say, now in my 30s, this is still an ongoing struggle.
So what’s the problem? What I didn’t know in my 20s is that being confident is a verb, an action. It’s not a feeling that floats around inside you. Doing the things of a confident person is what makes you confident. You have to do first, feel later. You cannot sit around waiting for confidence to find you, or blame the lack of it on your inability to accomplish tasks. The years continue on around us regardless of whether or not we feel confident enough to participate. Life is not a dress rehearsal. Continue reading
So I’ve learned something.
I went to Kauai to find answers, not really even knowing what my questions were, but feeling like there was something I was missing that I needed to find. Or maybe I needed to be found. One of those. I don’t know.
I wait for answers too often. If I want something to happen, I assume things are simply going to work out, eventually. Someone or something will swoop in with neon signs and arrows showing me every step of the way.
But clearly, for awhile now, I’ve been unhappy. I’ve felt unsettled and awkward, almost like I was intentionally avoiding something. And for the first few days in Kauai, I wasn’t settled either. I was thrilled to be there, of course, but I felt a little like I was phoning it in. The truth was, I was starting to panic. What if I didn’t find answers here? WHAT IF THERE WERE NO ANSWERS?! Gack. Continue reading
Somewhere in between determination, heart palpitations, lethargy and giddiness I stopped smoking cigarettes eleven days ago. Oddly enough I feel more level headed than I’ve felt in a long time, albeit a sleepy time.
I slept 16 hours per day during the first three days of the quit and sporadically puffed on a Nicorette Inhaler and on a nicotine-free electronic cigarette. I also thought about bookmarking a national directory of treatment centers on my browser in case I needed further help quitting.
The constant dizziness from quitting didn’t subside until day four and it’s still lingering today. And I can’t beleive the manufacturers of the Nicorette inhaler want you to use 12 cartridges per day! I’ve been using one per day since my quit and puffing on an electronic cigarette five to six times per day. And now, eleven days in, I’m weaning off both the Nicorette and the e-cig.
I’m not really sure what prompted me to stop smoking on November 19th, and can’t really say why I feel good or how come I haven’t gone crazy or regressed back into smoking again. I guess when the time is right you just do it and say frack off to everyone and everything else that gets in your way of completing the task at hand.
There are numerous reasons this quit is sticking…