Archives for category: Art

This morning over my coffee I watched a video that resonates with me, another way of saying things about this amazing journey, another way to say “the way out is through”. Maybe you’ll enjoy it too? The Nerdwriter is a personal favorite, and this particular video on “Kintsugi” says much, quite simply.

So, this morning I go forward into the day thinking about the chaos and damage in another way; I am who I am because I’ve been through what I’ve been through, and made the choices I’ve made, and lived the moments I’ve lived… and I like a lot of who I am. There is a balance to be struck between grieving past trauma, and respecting the woman in the mirror; it’s been a hell of a journey, and we’ve come a long way together. Some of my “best” qualities as a thinking, feeling, reasoning, loving, being are a direct result of my brain injury…so… who am I? Am I my trauma? No. Am I some creation beyond or outside my experiences of trauma? Not that either.

I think I’ll stop throwing away broken porcelain. There is a better way. 🙂

 

It doesn’t come up, here, very often; I am an artist. Inspiration struck me, hard, rather unexpectedly yesterday, to my great delight. Without thinking much about it, I pushed everything else to the side, headed into the studio, and spent the day painting. I’ll spend today painting too, and maybe tomorrow.

This is another side of who I am. Taking care of the woman in the mirror also means nurturing my creative side, and much of what drove me to move into this place was about my artistic needs, more than emotional needs from any other area of life. This weekend, this place pays for itself in freedom to paint; my studio was right here, ready for me when I needed it. 🙂 It is hard to express the level of satisfaction and joy that has resulted from having my studio this weekend.

Over the course of the day, a number of small canvases took shape, and one was completed. I’ll finish (probably) the others today, start a couple others (to be finished tomorrow, probably), and spend the weekend painting, content and in my element. It’s very satisfying. If I didn’t paint, this quantity of inspiration might erupt as photography, poetry, sculpture (of tiny Fimo figures), short-stories, or oddly, tidying up. When inspiration takes hold of my consciousness, I yield to its demands.

I enjoyed a quiet evening with my Traveling Partner, returning from far away places. He has a fond appreciation for my artistic endeavors, and it is likely that aside from a few precious hours visiting and enjoying each other, I’ll have the entire weekend to paint – conveniently, a long weekend. 🙂 I may not find more time to write… I smile and sip my coffee contentedly.

It is another day to paint, to play, to live.

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I love my friends. In these frightening trying times, watching a great nation descend into fascism is hard enough without people being gloomy 100% of all of the minutes of every day. My friends have adopted the weapons of wit, intellect, and a sense of the ridiculous, to cope with it all. It’s brilliant. I find myself laughing every day – and some days more often than my brow is furrowed with the weight of my concern. I’m no less concerned on the days I am laughing – but I sure do feel “safer”, empowered, and more able to cope with the fear of what may be to come.

Don’t forget to laugh. 🙂 Scary sure, but if there is an element of the ridiculous or unbelievable, there’s probably also a great joke or moment of amusement easily within reach, too. 😉 Monsters hate laughter. I plan to keep humorous, insightful programming at the top of my viewing list. There’s a reason shows like The Daily Show, The Colbert Report, and Last Week Tonight do so well; we need to laugh at our fears. South Park provides a surprisingly astute take on the affairs of the world, too. Our monsters need to be taken to task in the most amusing ways possible.

Then, too, there’s music. Art. “The Arts” are the soul of the resistance – any resistance. No doubt American artists in all fields will be doing some of the most amazing work of their careers over the next 4 years. Enjoy it! Support it! Patreon is a great way for everyday people to also patronize the arts – don’t leave America’s soul to the terrifically wealthy, it also belongs to you.

There is more than what is going on in life, and the world, than our momentary individual fears, doubts, and struggles. We are each having our own experience. We are also all in this together. Again and again, I find that taking the very best care of the woman in the mirror requires that I also do my very best to be the person I most want to be out in the world. Small mirror, big picture. Staying whole and well and emotionally healthy is pretty important for me, myself. I hope not to lose sight of how important it also is for how well I am able to support my family, invest in my community, and support the overall “social wellness” of my country. (If there are “social ills”, there must therefore also be an idea of “social wellness”… right?) I’m just saying – take care of you, too. If the grand freak-out on Facebook, and the depressing heinous fascist bullshit coming from Washington D.C. is wearing you down, take time for you. Chill with a cup of tea. Put the news over there to the side for another time. Breathe. Invest in your own self-care and quality of life. Take care of you. “Put your own oxygen mask on first” is a good basic idea; when we care well for ourselves, we have are more likely to have the resources to also care for others. I’m just saying… pace yourself, it’s going to be a long 4 years. 😉

This morning sipping coffee, listening to music, reading the hilariously humorous posts and comments by my very witty friends, and feeling for the moment rather… hopeful. It’s a nice morning. It’s enough. Today is a good day to laugh; our laughter can change the world.

It’s an odd sort of morning following a somewhat peculiar evening. It was a pleasant evening, and it is a pleasant morning. It would be easy to lose sight of how pleasant it is to focus on the oddity. The pleasantness, for me, is more important.

Evenings are quite short these days, a common experience for people who work and commute some distance. I arrived home about an hour earlier than usual, yesterday, which is enough time to make a difference. I enjoyed a bite of dinner, and meditation, and was headed to the shower when my traveling partner arrived. A whirlwind of greetings, moments, departures, and arrivals later, and the apartment was full of people, laughing, talking – it’s fairly easy to find a party breaking out at my place when both my traveling partner and I are at home; we two enjoy both company and solitude, and if we’re already together (and thus not alone) it’s a handy time to get other friends together, too. Parties happen. 🙂

I sip my coffee and for some moments think about far away friends, and long for their company, too. Magical thinking could intervene here, and leave me feeling lonely, or annoyed, or even inappropriately “abandoned”, or sad over what is not. It’s a choice, and I choose not to head down that spiral. I cherish my far away friends over my coffee, smiling with grateful delight at technology like Facebook, that so easily keeps us all in touch over the years. Any perceived distance melts away like morning fog as the sun rises, when we get together again. In the meantime, there are pictures of life, of new babies, of dance recitals, of fun and adventure, of love – all shared with affection, preserving a long-distance connection.

"Long Distance Connection"  18" x 24" acrylic on canvas w/glow, 2010

“Long Distance Connection” 18″ x 24″ acrylic on canvas w/glow, 2010

Last night I crashed pretty early, and the party moved next door out of respect for my working hours and early mornings. I actually slept well and deeply. I woke with the alarm, feeling comfortable in my body, content with the woman in the mirror, and ready to start a new day. No noteworthy pain – so I make a point of noticing the lack, and making that, itself, noteworthy by being aware of how good I feel right now, savoring it, lingering over it, enjoying it without any dismissive internal commentary. I take time to be okay with being okay. Being miserable can become a very bad habit; we become what we practice.

I sit quietly, sipping my coffee, living my life gently, feeling contented. It’s a lovely start to a work day. I think about the  years and years I didn’t start my days this way, and then the years that I tried… and tried… and tried… and often found some delicate fragile moment of contentment or delight would skid unexpectedly sideways off life’s highway, leaving me stranded in tears by the side of the road, unaware that I only needed to dust my self off and walk on. There are so many choices, and so much of my experience is in my own hands. It can be daunting. Then, too, there’s all that “positivity” stuff out there, and “faking it until you make it” encouragement; those things didn’t work for me at all. Authenticity is demanding, and some of the moments of a life well-lived are… challenging? Unpleasant. Some of life’s moments are frankly awful. Still… I couldn’t force positivity down my own throat, and no amount of repeating scripted affirmations or pasting fake smiles on my face got me anywhere. I gave up, and in giving up felt even worse about myself and my circumstances.

I tend to be a very positive person these days – but I didn’t start here, and getting here wasn’t the goal. I started with taking better care of myself (physically and emotionally), and took up practices that supported my wellness, and nudged me gently towards my long-term goals by improving my self-care, my awareness, and my willful actions, over time. I suppose someone could respond that they feel like a screaming spoiled toddler, and if they are (mis)behaving it is merely an expression of their authentic self… I guess that’s where having a conscious awareness of my values is helpful for me; I don’t think to justify bad behavior on the basis of “authenticity” – because that isn’t the woman I most want to be. I don’t find myself having to “fake it” – I do find that choices are necessary, and there are verbs involved. I begin again, regularly. When I fuck up and hurt someone, I apologize sincerely and without reservations or excuses.

It’s been a long while since I had some terrible meltdown. I take a moment to appreciate that – because, honestly, realistically, and being so very human? This too shall pass. 🙂 It’s likely that sometime in my future I will be frustrated, or angry, or childishly disappointed, and I will have to deal with it appropriately.  I may hurt someone’s feelings and have to apologize. I’ll be wrong about some things. I’ll fail at some others in spite of trying. I may kick myself while I’m down, or revert to a bad habit unexpectedly. Still… we become what we practice. I’ll begin again. Over time, in small sometimes hardly noticeable increments, change will occur.

We do become what we practice. I stopped practicing having relentless temper tantrums and yielding to primitive frustrated rage – but not by “quitting”; I began practicing something different. That’s my own version of “positivity”. More a doing than an undoing. For me, it started with the most basic mindfulness practices, a few minutes each day for myself that I could really count on, and the will to begin again day after day, as if my life depended on it. (From my perspective, it very much did.) My reading list is built on the resources that got me here, now. I can share titles of books forever, and perhaps you even read them – but without the verbs, the practicing of practices, and the will to begin again, they’re only books filled with mere words. Just saying.

My coffee has gone cold. It’s almost time to head to the office. I’m still smiling. Life feels different than it did three years ago, in a number of very good ways. We become what we practice. My results vary – but I can begin again, often. Today is a good day to practice. Who will you choose to become? 🙂

I woke with a terrible headache. I woke much earlier than I needed to be awake. I used the opportunity to open the windows and patio door to the pre-dawn breezes and fresh air, and cooling the apartment before the heat of the day. Doing so had no effect on the headache. I didn’t really expect it would. The headache made me ill with vertigo. I made it to the bathroom in time for nausea to avoid becoming a mess that requires cleaning up. A migraine? No, I think it over and realize it’s just one of the occasional outcomes of taking Rx pain medication (for me), pretty commonly; I was in enough pain last night to take pain medication.

I made coffee, did my morning yoga and physical therapy stuff. The headache continues. I take some Tylenol for the headache. I have a mammogram today. I barely care; this headache is kicking my ass – and winning. Half-way through my coffee, the nausea wins, too. 😦 Sometimes being a human primate is fairly disgusting.

I write a bunch, delete all of it, deciding I don’t prefer to write about war, violence, or hate today. My heart aches for the victims of violence, the living and the dead. What action am I taking? I am living my life peacefully, refusing to take up arms, and treating my fellow human beings as human beings; we’re all in this together, each of us quite human. Each having our own experience. Each likely thinking we’re the good guy, regardless what the other guy thinks of our actions.

Love matters most.

Love matters most.

My evening with my traveling partner was delightfully well-spent. Even this cursed headache doesn’t dim my smile when I think about our evening together. It wasn’t fancy, but love isn’t about fancy things, or planned events, or expensive trinkets. Love depends on a quality connection, not a fat bank account. 🙂

Be love. It's a choice. Love is a verb.

Be love. It’s a choice. Love is a verb.

This headache continues to mess with my enjoyment of the morning, although it has begun to fade after a third round of nausea becomes a third opportunity to become really skilled at vomiting. (So gross.) Wow. Headaches, puking, violence, love… this blog post has it all! I chuckle to myself, aware that this morning’s writing hardly amounts to ‘content’ at all. I feel very human, in the most limiting sense.  There’s no disappointment in that awareness, in spite of the headache, the violence in the world, or a few moments of nausea on a Friday morning; being human is so much more than those details. I love. I am loved. Each morning I face a new opportunity to choose well for myself, and to be present, to love – and to love more. Good stuff.

"Emotion and Reason" 18" x 24" acrylic w/ceramic and glow details

“Emotion and Reason” 18″ x 24″ acrylic w/ceramic and glow details

There’s so much fear and violence in the world. Fear. Violence. Fear and violence. Fear of violence. Bleak. It’s both bleak and tragic, on top of being so entirely unnecessary. Today I’ll do my small part to change the world by engaging strangers in genial conversation: brown strangers, dark strangers, fair strangers, ginger strangers, foreign strangers, male strangers, child strangers, woman strangers, strangers of no obvious gender or ethnicity, strangers of poetic beauty, strangers who appear disengaged and uninvolved with the world around them, strangers who want conversation – we are all human beings, and in that sense, we are not strangers to each other at all. There’s no reason to be afraid.

Today is a good day to choose peace.