Impermanence. As the leaves begin to fall off the bay trees creating a blanket of gold, we watch the squirrels gathering acorns on our walks, we see the crows coming home to nest in the evening, I explain to Jack and Fiona that Fall is coming, then winter. Their little boy and girl faces let me know time plays no favorites, two and a half years have flashed by without any kindness or special allowances. I’ve only been given the time on the clock, twenty-four hours in a day. I sit here now in my studio, my wonderful, messy, place that is my own, paint still on my hands from today’s painting session, a glass of wine I got by opening a bottle with a screw and plyers in order to save time and not have to go in the house during my last forty-five minutes of solitude. My Teacher credential information and my CSET study book next to me, my strategy is to study while the paint dries. As I look through the book I keep telling myself, don’t freak out, you can learn this. It’s so much information! It’s just as hard to paint I tell myself. Everything is hard at first, but there’s time. We have time. Time to be creative, time to be our different selves. Time to expand our universe until we die. Having kids has been life changing for me, just like everyone said it would be. But maybe not in the ways people warned, I feel like I am re-connecting with my true inner self. I feel like all the knowledge I’ve acquired through my life is coming into play. I have a much deeper understanding of the interconnectedness of us all. How I change and how I stay the same, it’s interesting. The change is the courage to let my freak flag fly high, my heart is good, I am part of the change in our country, our world. My children will live on and carry the torch. I know there are no guarantees, but I just can’t imagine having Republican children. Jacks been coming up with the most amazing responses. I was talking to him the other day about Boyd Park, my favorite park of all time. It was designated a Park in 1905! It has a reputation for homeless people, which sometimes there are. We walked by one the other day, he was sleeping. I was talking to Jack about the homeless people, telling him they didn’t feel good and I thought we should bring them something next time. Jack said “Bring them dinner”. I said, “Yes Jack, we’ll bring them dinner.” I couldn’t believe it, how a two-and-a-half-year-old could think like that already. It made me feel really good. That’s all I want, for my children to have an understanding of the world as it is and to want to help people and help make the world a better place no matter how corny that sounds.
Category: being an artist
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Fan on, back and fourth, made it work. Can’t stop. Problem. When begin working on series, project for new show get obsessed. Forced myself to eat two hard boiled eggs, drink one red stripe and drink two cups of water. This is what happens. I have a lot to sell for $150. And I have my series almost complete. It includes various sizes on canvas, paper, and board. A variety of prices, a variety of materials. As well as collabs between me and Carl and Carls selection of Solo New Works. It should make for quite a show. For Sure. I just want to keep on working but I only have an hour and a half. Panic. I need to walk the dog, take a shower, and get it together enough to take the babies to the grocery store and make dinner. Today the worlds collide. How can I rectify this? I don’t know, but I know I need to leave soon to take Billy for a walk. I made good progress in my studio today. At least there’s that. I was glad to get to this week, I actually have extra help this week, perfect timing for show prep. It does feel good, but I wish I had a little more time. That’s the thing, when you have kids. I can’t just disappear for fourty eight hours working non-stop in my studio. I have to leave, not knowing when I will be able to work again. Jack seemed like he wasn’t feeling well this morning. What if he gets sick and needs round the clock Mommy? Or the babysitter gets sick? Or her kids? So many things to get in the way of my studio time. I take a deep breath. This is the way it is. Must accept. Input. Acceptance. Flow with it. Sympatico.
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Finally, I can sit down and begin to write. It’s 10:33AM Friday morning. Babysitter day. Everyone is at the park so I have the whole house to myself. I was able to finish cleaning last night after I put the babies to bed. I started in the afternoon. Vacuuming, with my new progressive vacuum cleaner from Sears, I got the model the professional cleaning ladies use, the canister style. Jack wouldn’t take his nap so I let him watch excavator videos on the I-Pad as I begun to clean. I kept thinking he’s so good. I woke Fiona up early from her nap, and even when both babies were upstairs I continued to do little chunks of cleaning, in between we ate snacks, played in the sand box, picked plums, then bath time and bedtime. I came up and still had to mop, as I pushed the mop over the tiles, and the wood I felt an ease inside me. A relaxation. Now as I sit here typing in my clean house I feel that same lightness. What is it about a clean house? What is it about a dirty house? And how come some people can live in a messy, dirty house, and it doesn’t bother them, but others feel depressed with a messy house? I know the mindfulness techniques, the ones where you try to let it go, not worry about dirty dishes in the sink. Or toys all over the floor. I try to do this but I can only go so long. There’s another Buddhist philosophy, or would it be Feng Shi? I heard that it’s not good to have tons of clutter under your bed, that it would clutter your dreams and make your life feel cluttered. I think that’s true. Maybe cleaning helps us purge and move forward from one day to the next. Be able to fully be in the present, instead of held back by yesterday’s dirty habits. The chimes are blowing outside, the birds are chirping, it’s a beautiful day. I already laid down some marks in my studio. I’m going to take breaks in between layers today. Write, take Billy for a walk, work on some etchings, those take time. I want some new ones for my show in September. I’ve got so much good stuff for that show. And I’m making more and more every day.
I’m over my worrying over who reads what and what they think. Today, as I started working in my notebooks I realized that I have almost fully embraced who I am. My studio showed me that. None of the things matter that I worry about, the cost, the trying to justify what I do, that I am an artist whether I sell or not. It’s no reason not to do it. There’s also no way to explain to someone who doesn’t have a passion that requires ridiculous amounts of money for supplies, makes a mess, makes no money, takes lots of time, and makes a person crazy. Or is the artist born crazy? My mom was an artist too. I miss her so much. I think I’d be less crazy if she were still around for me to talk to. Before my mom died, when people told me one of their loved ones had passed I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how they felt. When I went through losing someone so close to me, who meant the world to me, who was so much part of my life, unexpectedly gone the next day, it was a feeling that could only be learned through experience. There would be no way to explain that to someone who hadn’t gone through losing someone in that way. I think a lot of things in life are like that. We beat ourselves up trying to explain things to people who will never understand, unless they go through it themselves.
Well my technique isn’t working so well yet. I worked more in my studio and I feel like everything is already over worked!!! Maybe there’s no way to get around that. It’s just part of the process. It’s just past noon now. Starting to feel anxious because I know everyone will be back from the park soon. I need to make myself scarce, if the babies see me they might not want to take a nap. They are getting so big. They are starting to understand things I say. Yesterday I saw them sitting on a step in the backyard together, it was so cute. I wish I could have got a picture. They looked like they were contemplating life. Earlier in the day Fiona and I were swinging on the hammock and Jack was walking around it, Fiona said, “Jack, watch your head” which is quite an accomplishment for her. I was impressed. They impress me every day. I’ve learned too that with toddlers you have to be willing to say no and let them cry. They get over it so fast, but the more I give in to things like watching Mickey Mouse or eating candy, which are the two things they constantly whine about, the worse they are. They may keep asking all day long, but the more I say no the quicker they move onto playing something else, like going outside and playing in the sand box. It’s hard because I feel bad when they cry, but I know it’s just an automatic response for them, they are always trying to figure me out. They want to learn how to control me and they know using their emotions is an effective strategy! The sad face! I hope they had tons of fun at the park today. My alone time is almost over. I thoroughly enjoyed it! I need more of this.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 