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: painting
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I decided to paint white over some of the paintings I started yesterday. I worked on my new manuscript all morning, the process of organizing my chapters, the practice of writing scenes from memory, the insomnia the night before followed by last nights deep rest inspired me to go farther in my quest for what’s just enough line, color, texture, detail, information. I looked in the mirror at myself. I saw how unattractive the Christmas apron I got on sale on Amazon was. On sale because it’s March now. I told myself that’s not what your body really looks like. I grabbed pastels to draw with, a grey one, a gold one, an iridescent. I hesitated, stage fright to draw sometimes. Drawing and writing are closely connected. I’ve felt self-conscious or held back in my writing and drawing during periods of repression in my life. Periods of fear to express myself, I was afraid of what I might reveal to myself, or what I might reveal to someone else. Those times my studio is filled with dark blue or Jenkins green. All dark. All ruined. All my paint gone. Those are trippy times. Today was a different experience. Lines didn’t disappear, forms and feelings remained visible. Today was Friday. I have three days until another possible studio day.










