The birds chirp today, sky blue, acacia blooms bright yellow. It’s chilly still, but beautiful and even warm under the sun. I finally feel a bit of calm, even with my relentless insomnia. Sleepless nights, every night, when will I sleep again? The house is quiet except for my dog breathing and the refrigerator hum. I spent a few moments in my studio today, but it needs a major cleaning and purging so I can begin my work again. I’m past yesterday and sit still in today. I let my worries off the hook for now and will practice recognizing the here and now. I take charge of things, do what I can, continue to study ASL, work on myself, my practice of mindfulness, my art practice and my writing. With this practice I am not looking for a quick fix or answers, I’m only looking for a softer approach from myself to myself. That’s all. I will be as open as ever, as giving and honest as ever, that is me. But I will practice direct communication and assertiveness and confidence in myself. I’m not going backwards and feeling sad about my difficulties of the past several months, if not years. The difficulties manifested as I tried to do the best I could. At first glance I feel upset I missed my last art opening but when I look at the details surrounding the incident, I will give myself a break, I am still learning to be assertive and confident. Things are going to change for me, I will change. My problems will not disappear, but I can learn to live without so much fear. I will, I can, I am. I am strong, smart, creative, and I care deeply about my family, my community, my world. I used to say I wasn’t made for this world, this time period, even though I’m so tough and have lived through so much trauma and hardships, most people who know me now would be shocked to hear what my life has been like. But I’m sensitive and live in fight or flight most of the time. Or sadness and depression. Or I’m super excited and optimistic. It’s all O.K., it’s who I am. I will no longer let others stifle me or scare me. I can’t. I know I can do this.
Tag: being human
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“Why are you talking like that?” Jack asked me.
He had just started throwing pillows of the futon during story time. Tears had started rolling down my cheeks, my voice quivering.
“Because I’m tired Jack, it’s exhausting saying No, don’t do that all day long” I said.
I gained control of myself and finished the stories.
I went to bed and Jack and Fiona came in several times for several hugs and kisses. Jack was extra sweet and since it was Ice Cream truck day after camp, things went swimmingly all day.
Fiona was so happy when I picked her up from camp and she even told me she met a new friend. There was no hitting after camp and I’m hoping today can be as smooth.
I’m so tired and need a break. I might skip my Spanish class to get a few hours in my studio. I feel bad because I only have three Spanish classes left. Its a tough choice but when there’s only a few hours of alone time each day I have to make these tough choices.
I need to have some down time. Breath in breath out time. I’m tired of all the politics and being bogged down by the injustices of our world.
The constant fight is exhausting. I’ve been working so hard and find myself here on an island totally isolated.
We were practicing fingerspelling last night at story time, Jack was sweet there too and he’s really good at fingerspelling and his ASL alphabet! One of the exercises was to spell our friends names front and backwards and practice numbers by doing our friends phone numbers.
Again I can’t even think of a friend I have I could call up and invite over! Is that crazy after all this time! People are so busy, and my dhh playgroup ain’t panning out!
Crazy! But I love my alone time. And I’m looking forward to fall spending more time in Berkeley.
Maybe it’s Marin. It seems hard to make good friends in Marin. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter.
I’m gonna get back into meditation. I’m gonna do my ASL program in the fall, keep painting and writing and raising my kids.
Try to relax and have fun.
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Sloth Woman
She’s green. A woman who creates a world that covers her body, that protects her and feeds her children. Made from protective qualities, like optimism, creativity, and resilience. Her skin, thick with intransigent love. The green sloth woman learns how to adapt, her outer shell evolves, she adds a durable layer of self-protection and high regard for herself. The sloth woman is inadequate to survive easily in this world unscathed, especially emotionally and psychologically. But she is a quick study, also takes notes and has a good memory. She is vulnerable to predators, has close calls, but always survives.
I race against the clock. It’s Sunday, my husband took Jack and Fiona out for a few hours to give me alone time. I cherish it and am cramming in as much self-expression as I can. I painted, hiked, and now I’m writing.
I have had a nice weekend with my kids. We have had some very quality moments together, and since writing about their evolution as four-and-a-half-year-olds the other day, I have found myself soften and we’ve reconnected in a new way.
I have been dwelling on my value again, as an artist especially. But I can’t help relating being an artist with being a parent. I received my check the other day for the recent sale of “White Hand”. A painting I love. I priced this painting lower than I should have because in the end, after the gallery cut was taken and I factored in the framing cost I ended with a “profit”of $125. I don’t expect to be compensated for my time in the studio, the cost of supplies, all the costs associated with being an artist. There’s no way to put a price tag on that. Similarly, there’s no way to put a price tag on being a stay-at-home, full-time parent. There’s no way to put a price on the physical labor of raising children, like the cleaning, cooking, caring for the physical needs of your children. There’s no way to put a price tag on training the future workforce and members of our society.But I have received many benefits from being a full-time parent, all in the forms of self-growth.
I grow as an artist too. I receive many forms of reward being an artist. I do find working my studio therapeutic. Art and creativity are everything to me. It’s my whole life, I don’t exist without it. This is part of my sloth coat, my microcosm. Art protects me and makes me thrive as a person. I like the connection to my art community.
Nothing in being an artist or being a parent is inspired by making money. It’s unlike working for a salary. There is no salary to be had. It is hard to determine my value as a person in this world. I have to rely on what I offer my children, my community. What I can do for others. I can only rely on my mind, what I feel I’ve done or am.
My paintings are a commodity, a by-product of my self-expression and investigation into universal creativity. I want to share my by-product with anyone who would find value in having a piece of art I have made hanging on their wall. In turn I get paid money that I can buy art supplies with or use for other creative projects.
Traditionally, I’ve priced low. I don’t want to gouge people or charge a bunch for my work. I want everybody to be able to afford a piece of art. I’ve often said I don’t rely on the money from selling paintings to put food on my table. If I did, I would be homeless. But does that mean I should sell them for a price that doesn’t feel right anymore?
Is it better to not sell at all? In the case of “The White Hand” it’s a matter of $300 0r $400 more. I needed to get a check between $675 and $725, that way after the $250 framing cost I would have $475 or $375 for my beautiful painting. That would feel O.K., but that would mean I would have had to charge $1450 for my painting. That’s a lot of money for most people. This is a quandary.
My time at the residency, “Being Human”, was amazing because we got a stipend that paid for childcare on the days we were working on projects. Plus, the emphasis was on the process, the physicality and community aspects of the residency. The end products were successful, but they didn’t have to be.
It felt good to be valued. To be chosen and feel like an important part of a public creative journey.
I can’t put a price on being a parent, but I think going forward I will need to raise my prices on my art.
My sloth protective coating is adding a more expensive layer.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 