Archives for category: art and the artist
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Pain, Vertigo, Errands to Run

December 21, 2024 //
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It’s the day of Winter Solstice. Happy Solstice.

I woke during the night, and it was the strangest thing. I turned over, and the vertigo that washed over me woke me abruptly. I thought it was near time to wake up anyway, so I laid still and quiet, and quite straight and flat on my back, waiting for the vertigo to pass. Once it did, which seemed rather a long while later, awake in the darkness, I checked the time. 02:55. Definitely not time to get up. I made myself more comfortable and went back to sleep. There was a Billy Joel song stuck in my head, which seemed peculiar enough to wonder why, as I drifted off to sleep.

I woke again later, properly time to get up and head for the trail. My vertigo spun my senses as I tried to orient myself. Damn it, why now? It passes and I sit up, aware of the intensity of the pain in my neck and back. Rough. I’m feeling pretty fucking mortal this morning and find myself worrying about making things as easy as possible on my Traveling Partner should my mortality catch up with me unexpectedly… Time to focus on paying off debts and fattening up savings and having things properly in order… But… For fucks sake isn’t it always time for those things? I sigh quietly and get up. I’ve got shit to do, and the morning begins here, now.

My day begins in earnest with the kitchen sink backing up first thing. What the absolute fuck?! Are you kidding me with this shit?! I snarl quietly to myself, aggravated with someone’s carelessness. Eggshells jammed into the drain, but not down into the disposal, and the strainer cup placed over those, so it wasn’t evident that they were there. Of course they didn’t go through the disposal that way. G’damn it. I try so hard to be quiet in the morning but I definitely can’t walk away with the fucking sink backed up. I roll up my sleeves and clear the clog. So gross. First fucking thing in the morning, too; I’m barely fucking awake and I’m not ready for this bullshit. Fixed. I wash my hands and head out, still annoyed.

The drive to the trailhead is quiet and pleasant. By the time I get parked I’m over being mad about the sink, but I definitely wish the Anxious Adventurer would take a little more basic care moment to moment, particularly in the fucking kitchen and in the shop. That kind of careless bullshit gets shit broken, or gets people hurt, or creates risk of injury or food-born illness. It’s too easy to get it right. It irritates me that he makes extra work for me so often. (I know he doesn’t mean to.) I sigh quietly. It begins to rain. My tinnitus is loud in my ears. My neck and back ache ferociously, a column of pain rising from my waist to the base of my skull. Fuck pain. I don’t feel much like walking in a drizzle in the pre-dawn darkness, uncertain whether my vertigo may flare up again, so I meditate, and write a bit, and wait for a break in the rain.

I’ve a couple errands to run for my Traveling Partner this morning, and think about stopping in town for a quiet coffee and a visit to the art supply store… No reason, really, it just sounds fun and satisfying. It’s a nice day to do something for myself, too.

The rain continues to fall. I listen to the raindrops on the car roof and sit quietly with my thoughts until it’s time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, Frustration, gratitude, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, more than a little bit of bitching, Oregon Trails, pain, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, solo hiking, The Art of Being, winter

You (Maybe) Suck At Taking Breaks

December 9, 2024 //
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Maybe. I do. It’s pretty common that people struggle to take healthy breaks. I definitely suck at taking healthy breaks. I often push myself too hard for too long and then just… refuse to do anything for… awhile. This does not tend to be ideally efficient or productive, nor is it the best use of my time and energy. So… I’m taking a break. Right now. I’ve gotten a couple hours of focused work done. I’ve run an errand, then gotten back to the focused work. I’ve got quite a list of things to do, and that I could be doing…I’ve also got a headache, and my posture needs a break, and… well… so do I.

I got up from my desk, stretched without doing anything else besides stretching and feeling my body move, and feeling my muscles begin to relax. I shifted gears from working to being. I went to the kitchen and made myself a cup of tea. (Although I generally prefer coffee, I’ve had quite enough already today.) I stood looking out the window while my tea steeped until the point of preferred “tea-ness”, and walked back to my desk. Not to resume work, not quite yet. I took a moment to just breathe, smell the delicous fragrance of my tea (Smith’s No. 14 Black Lavender). I take a sip – perfect drinking temperature. It’s hot, but not too hot, and the porcelain mug is warm in my hand. Feels like comfort in a cup. I sigh to myself and relax. I needed this.

…Maybe you need a break, too…?

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I’m amused by the many articles I’ve read recently seeking to decry work-from-home and promote “RTO” agendas. I suppose there are people who are less productive working from home. There is certainly some percentage of employed people who prefer to work in an office environment among other people also working. There’s a certain sort of management type that definitely values in-office work, if only to more easily observe downstream employees working. My experience, however, as both an employed person, and also as someone who spent many years in a workforce management role actually monitoring humans working, is that whether I wanted it to be true or not, generally speaking, most people working from home work longer hours, with greater focus, and get more done in the time during which they are working. That it has additional value for people on the human side is a bit of a bonus. Funny that there are businesses trying to force folks back into the office. I find myself wondering who that is really for. Who really benefits from that? Probably not the working employees, themselves, or they’d already be doing it because they want to – and no one is stopping them from doing so. I think about that for a minute or two…

…Then realize those thoughts are, themselves, a form of working, and I’m specifically trying to take a break here!! LOL

(I suck at taking breaks.)

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I sip my tea. I stand up and move around my office, looking at paintings, small objects, things to do with art, and I think about that instead. I enjoy my tea.

…Then I begin again. Working.

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Categories art and the artist, autumn, breathe, Free Will, health, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Mindfulness, Moments, pain, Perspective, Practices, The Art of Being

Still Grateful

December 1, 2024 //
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It’s freezing this morning. Icy. 28° Fahrenheit. Quite cold. I’m grateful for the base layers, gloves, scarf, and warm clothes keeping me mostly comfortable as I walk the foggy trail.

Winter, or something very like it.

I spent part of yesterday painting, but my inspiration was a bit gloomy, I guess, and it crept into the work. Still, getting the submerged fears about the world out of my head is probably helpful anyway.

“Urban Warfare (world on fire)” 5″ x 7″ pastel

The rest of the day was spent finishing the dishes after Thanksgiving (I finally got to the pots and pans!) and decorating the house for the Giftmas holiday ahead. Later, in the evening, the new tree went up, and in spite of my plan to decorate it today, I found myself getting most of the ornaments hung as the evening faded to night. I woke to see the glow of the holiday lights down the hall this morning, and it delighted me to see the tree first thing this morning.

It’s Giftmas time again. Feeling merry.

Today? Routine. There’s housekeeping to do, and another work week to prepare for.  My Traveling Partner spent a good portion of yesterday in the shop actually working. Without help. I’m so proud of him and so impressed! I know it isn’t easy. It’s so good to see him doing things he loves. I expect he’ll be in the shop again today, things to do that keep him motivated. New tools. New projects.

We talked some yesterday about my PTSD challenges this holiday season. It helped to share and have his understanding. Doesn’t make it “easier”, exactly, just…yeah, okay, maybe easier. lol

It’s cold this morning. My fingers are stiff now and writing is difficult. I feel the cold more, sitting here watching the sun rise through the fog. I guess it’s time to walk on. There’s stuff to do and it’s time to begin (again).

Sunrise, foggy morning, Mt Hood in the distance.
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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, gratitude, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being, War and News of War

Connections & Recipes

November 29, 2024 //
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Thanksgiving dinner was delightful and delicious. Everything came to the table hot and I’m pleased and satisfied with the outcome, generally. Oh, sure, the stuffing was a little dry (I tried a better quality cubed bread, but didn’t correctly account for the additional liquid I’d need, and failed to crush some of it to crumbs), and I didn’t also make rolls or biscuits (are you fucking kidding me? I made the meal without help, and only have 1 oven and four burners! lol). Still, the “bitching” about those details wasn’t a big deal and overall the meal was well-received.

… The sous vide turkey was fucking amazing!…

By the end of the evening, we were all relaxing, food put away, dishes cleared, kitchen tidied up, and the first load of dishes in the dishwasher, watching old UFC fights and having a merry good time. My feet were hurting like crazy from being on them all day. I’m pretty sure everyone was in pain from their own limits being reached over the course of the day. I was tired, too. Up early, at it all day…no nap. lol Like a little kid, I was at risk of being moody and emotional. I went to bed abruptly when it was suddenly super clear that any little thing might set me off.

… Because little things had begun to set me off, not because I’m emotionally aware and wise from experience. Just human…

Oh damn, what a lovely Thanksgiving, though. Leftovers, too. Yummy. Today? Well, I’ll be safely at home not shopping, putting up the Giftmas tree and decorating the house with festive things. No way am I going out into the retail chaos today! There was already traffic at 05:00 a.m.! Fuck that.  I’ve got better things to do.

Long weekend. If I get the tree done today, I am hoping to paint tomorrow. My Traveling Partner has brought something to my creative experience that no previous partnership has; structure. He’s been actively encouraging me to make a point of painting on Saturday. I’m not entirely sure why, exactly, but having that bit of structure has been…nice. I paint more, and it’s becoming an actual practice, which feels good and definitely nurtures something within me. Easy enough to also do laundry, rotating the loads between paintings and folding things and putting it away after the painting is all done, or while taking a break to think about the next piece.

As things are these days, I quite literally do not have any “days off”, at all, unless I leave for the coast or to go camping. There’s just too much to do, and I’m also employed full-time. I’m not even bitching (well, maybe a little); there’s just too much non-negotiable workload between work, household upkeep, caregiving, and errands that need to be run. It can’t not get done, and at least for now it all falls to me day-to-day (although the Anxious Adventurer handles the majority of the heavy work to do with things in the shop, or big projects like assembling furniture or the hot tub maintenance). I’m damned lucky any day I can sit down for a few minutes. Even taking time to shower sometimes feels like a luxury. Having my partner’s encouragement to paint, in spite of all that… well, I feel very loved.

I manage to keep getting a walk each morning, and making time to write. Self-care matters, and these practices fit neatly into a time of day in which I wouldn’t be inclined to do noisier things around the house. It’s something. It’s a lot, really. I’m grateful for these quiet moments alone with myself. They’re as important to me as time spent at my easel.

A new day.

I stop at a convenient picnic table along the trail and write for a few minutes. Chilly morning. Gray daybreak becomes a gray dawn. Looks like a gray autumn day ahead. I listen to a flock of Canada geese pass overhead.

I’m grateful for this good life, and each new day. Yesterday I made time to renew connections with old friends, and distant family. Our relationships matter more than most other things about being human. I’ve got some good friends. I smile thinking about the various conversations about food and recipes. What a delightful thing to share. I feel fortunate. I sit awhile reflecting on life, recipes – and gratitude.

The day stretches ahead of me. It’s already time to begin again.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, forgiveness, Free Will, gratitude, inspiration, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Practices, Relationships, The Art of Being

Strange Dreams & Love Songs

November 26, 2024 //
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I slept like crap last night. My sleep was restless and disturbed by strange unsettling dreams. Not exactly nightmares, I guess, but my dreams were peculiar and distressing enough to wake me. I woke a bit more than a half hour early for the day to begin, too, feeling restless and fussy. My Traveling Partner was already up, rather oddly, and as soon as I entered the living room he said “now I can go back to bed”, or something of the sort (I was still pretty groggy). It was weird.

Later, after I was long gone and out on this trail in the fog and darkness, he pinged me, awake again (still), and told me about his restless night. Rough. I send him my love and some affectionate stickers and emoji. Probably not very helpful, but hopefully he at least knows I care. Before I can share the love song that has been stuck in my head since I woke this morning, he’s headed back to bed. I hope he finally sleeps.

I pause on the trail in the cold to write a few words and gaze at the sliver of moon in the east through the fog, before I finish my walk and head to the office. Today feels “too busy” and I’m short on rest. I’ll do my best. What else is there to do?

It’s Thanksgiving week, of course it feels busy. I laugh to myself. Human challenges. Human limitations. I breathe exhale and relax. I meditate for a few moments, unconcerned with the cold. It’s not quite freezing. I’m glad I wore warm layers, and my scarf and gloves! I think about sitting by the fireplace, cozy and warm. Winter soon.

“Fireside” pastel 2024

I look at the time, in the pre-dawn gloom. Daydreaming can wait. It’s time to begin again. The day is waiting.

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Categories Allegories, Art, art and the artist, autumn, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Love, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Sleepless Nights, solo hiking, The Art of Being
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