The dark shadow under the eastern side of the oak tree catches my attention as I sit here and ponder the question, “What do I have to do right now?” The babies are on a special day away at their babysitters’ house until 5:00pm today. I’ve spent the morning painting and working in my studio, getting work started on new stretched canvas, acrylic, working on the same painting over and over again, changing it and changing it, starting new work on paper with brown ink, teal acrylic paint, magenta, and pencil. Working on the collab canvas piece I’m bringing to Carl tomorrow, getting work ready for the unframed work on paper exclusive sale at Fourth Wall Gallery, $250 each. I still need to type up my information for each piece, like titles! Which I need to think about. I need to take Billy for a walk and take a shower. I’d rather sit here and write for a while and relax until I need to go pick up the babies. So what do I have to do right now? Am I asking the right question? What do I want to do right now? What can I do right now? What if I got lost between those three questions and sat here paralyzed, unable to move? In an alternate universe. Is the world shifting? Or am I shifting? Echoes of a basketball hitting the ground and the rim, motorcycles on the freeway, a blue jay squawking, car door shutting, front door slams, crow caws in. The world keeps on shifting and so do I. This morning I got sad. It was such a deep feeling I sat with it for a minute. It surprised me. Jack and Fiona were sitting in the kitchen, cheerios, toast, and milk in front of them. I said, “I’ll be right back, I’m going to the bathroom.” I’m sitting on the toilet and I hear a squabble then something fall. Then laughing, then more things spilling and falling. I can barely wipe my butt, I run to the kitchen and see milk, cheerios, cups, bowls, and toast thrown all over the place. Babies covered in milk. House just cleaned yesterday. As I see this mess my heart sinks, I feel as though I’m going to cry. “Get out of the kitchen” I say. “That really made me sad, that was bad, it’s not funny” They continue laughing for a minute then hide in their tent. Then Jack walks out and acts like he’s going to pee on the floor! I say “NO, go potty in the toilet” I cleaned up the mess and when they asked for more toast and cheerios I said “No, you should have eaten your breakfast, it’s in the garbage now”.
Category: being present
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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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I woke up early this morning, 6:30AM, I thought “Yea! I have some time to write and have my coffee”. Jack and Fiona went to sleep super late, 10:00PM, so I thought they would sleep in. “Mama, MOM, Mommy” I hear Jack as I walk up the stairs, experimenting in different ways to call me. I start to make my coffee and toast thinking he’ll fall back asleep, but I hear his calls, go get him, turn on Masha and The Bear, give him dry cereal, a banana, and an apple juice box. He’s content, I start to check my e-mails, Facebook, and here comes Fiona. I give her the same, put in her hearing aids, and they are both content. I haven’t read the news this morning, I didn’t sleep well last night. I started worrying, what if someone does the TRULY UNTHINKABLE, what if someone gets their hands on a nuclear weapon? I started worrying this is WW3. I didn’t sleep well. I escaped yesterday for a few hours, it felt GREAT! I finally had some time to work with Carl on some collaborations for our upcoming show at The Fourth Wall Gallery in Oakland. (www.fourthwallart.com ) We’ve been trying to get together for months it seems, but I haven’t been able to make it happen. Yesterday I did and we had a great session. Carl had several starts I responded to right away. My creativity automatically kicked in, mixing colors, making marks with paint, ink, brushes, palette knives. We both used frags from work we were done with, we hated, Carl cut the pieces up, giving overworked pieces’ new life, a new role to play. My own marks and messes that frustrated me before now inspired me in the new form and shape they took. Our last three or four pieces we created together really sung, we minimized our marks down to the bare minimum. Into pure line, movement, spontaneity, and stream of consciousness, two spirits merging. I responded to the news I heard on my way over, the world imploding, not with anger, but with marks inspired by the wind. I could hear the fresh, chilly, Sausalito foggy breeze outside, it permeated me and moved through my arm and hand. The good feeling, I held inside me, being out, getting a coffee, sitting in a coffee shop waiting for lunch to be ready, talking to fellow customers, being told I have a “Good attitude towards food”, he asked if I liked the coffee, “Yes, it’s the best Iced Coffee I’ve ever had” I say. At that moment it was, and during the moments I worked, painting, only words spoken between Carl and I about this mark or that, I am extremely grateful. To have the space and time to be creative. This is all I can do.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 