Archives for category: Art

I woke early. It’s a Sunday. I had hoped to sleep in, but it’s not that day, not that experience.

I somehow managed to “psychically wake up” my Traveling Partner although I was sleeping in another room. (I honestly just don’t know how I woke him, but he turned up to tell me that I had done so within seconds of me sitting up to acknowledge a new day. “Psychically” covers it as well as anything else for now.) I dress and head out for a walk, hoping he can get some more rest. I choose a favorite trail that’s a bit of a drive to get to; it prolongs my time out of the house.

… It’s a lovely misty morning for a quiet marshside walk. I get back to the car too early to head straight home; if my partner is sleeping, I want to be sure he gets more than an hour of napping! Good time to jot down a few words.

An Autumn Sunday

My plan is to return home, make coffee, and spend the day creatively (and doing laundry, and tackling some outside chores that should not take long). I’m specifically so very hungry to be painting, and shit just keeps getting in the way. Some days it just feels like “everyone wants a piece of me” and there’s nothing left for me at the end of the day… Or week. Routine chores and practical shit that just has to get done uses up most of my time and attention, leaving me too tired physically to then also paint. Time taken in the studio often feels like time taken away from my partner. I could do better. I need to do better. Painting is, for me, both a form of communication and a form of self-care and I am failing myself on this pretty seriously.

I sit with my thoughts and half an eye on the clock.

What an emotionally difficult weekend this has been. I meant to spend most of it painting and loving my partner. I managed to fail on both of those intentions pretty notably. Tears well up when I acknowledge that for myself, but they don’t fall. I take a deep breath and exhale. Another chance to begin again. G’damn we said some pretty awful things to each other. That saddens me. I know I can do better.

So, it’s another day, another chance to be the woman I most want to be, another opportunity to choose my adventure and walk my own path. Adulting is hard, but I know what I want out of my day, even if I am not entirely sure which verbs are most likely to get that result.

… I can at least do my best…

It’s time to begin again. Again.

I am sipping my first coffee. It’s quite late in the morning on a Sunday. Feels like a lazy day, but I’m in the studio, after a lovely walk on a misty morning. The marsh trail is closed for the season. The all-year trail is still open, and quite lovely. The trees are wearing Autumn colors, and the migrating flocks of birds entertained me with their murmurations as the dawn became day.

Walking Autumn trails.

My Traveling Partner is in his creative space, printing parts, re-assembling a 3D printer, and doing his thing. I’m in my studio, in a similarly creative mental space. This morning my head is filled with art and meaning, connections and inspiration. I am thinking about the past – and the future. I am listening to music that connects those elements of my life in an entertaining way; Cyberpunk. This Billy Idol album came out in 1993 – well-before I had a computer on my desk, myself. I had read my share of William Gibson, of course, but pc’s were not yet commonplace and “smartphone” wasn’t even a word yet. I had yet to form the future friendships that would come to rely on internet connectivity to sustain them over time. Listening to Cyberpunk now, it has a lot of peculiarly prescient elements that now seem almost mundane and just a little “so what?” I find that quite interesting. It remains one of my “forever favorite” albums. My favorite track? Probably Adam in Chains… I think back on “that time”, and find myself wondering how I didn’t “pick up on” the value of mindfulness and a serious meditation practice then…? How did it take me so long to get here? I remember listening to Adam in Chains with my headphones on, or alone at home with the stereo cranked up, stressed to a breaking point, drifting deeper into a meditative state following the flow of the music…finding temporary peace. It wasn’t a practice, just a moment.

…Listening now, it lifts me and lifts me, and I feel a wholeness and contentment and joy, although the lyrics and music are not of a happy place or time…

I could have come farther, faster, sooner if I had made the connection, perhaps… It’s a complicated journey. I took some detours and some dead-end paths. I’m not even sure I regret those, knowing what I know now; it’s been a life well-lived. There’s no knowing which small detail, changed, would change all the rest. Would I give up even one friendship formed later to have healed sooner? I don’t think that’s a choice I’d want to make. If finding mental health, wellness, and emotional stability would have come sooner, but at the cost of never making the acquaintance of my Traveling Partner…? Would I have chosen sanity over love? I don’t know that I would, given a chance to make an informed choice. Love is pretty splendid.

Art inspired by life, new work in progress waiting for attention.

I tinker while I sip coffee and write. I pause the music when my Traveling Partner pops in to show me newly printed parts from the new 3D printer – pretty amazing stuff, and I delight in both the quality of the results and his obvious satisfaction. I re-connect the Bluetooth antenna to my desktop computer in order to pair the Cricut; it’s a pain in the ass to balance my laptop on my knees in the studio, when I could be using my desktop computer for the design work so much more conveniently, and it’s been holding me back a bit. The beat pounds in my ears as I type. My coffee is still warm, and well-prepared. It’s a good day for art and play and love – I feel inspired.

It’s time to begin again.

I’m in the studio this weekend. It feels good to do creative work. I loaded my “painting playlist” for my ears, and my “inspiration slideshow” for my eyes, sat awhile with my thoughts and feelings, then turned my chair to face the window (and my work surfaces) and got started. Yesterday was a solidly good day of painting, with 3 completed canvases, and one background that needed to dry before I could do the foreground work. Very satisfying.

Today, I sit down once again, early in the afternoon with the filtered light of an overcast day brightening the room. Playlist? Check! Slideshow? Check! Ready to begin again? Yes, I am.

Today there is chocolate in my coffee, and an image in my head pulled straight out of a recent nightmare. I “don’t have the words” for the feeling it conveys, so I have to rely on canvas and color to “find the words” for me. Most of the paintings this weekend are bold colors, contrasting details silhouetted over wildly colorful sunrises, sunsets and … this…

new work, as yet untitled

Who is she? Is that her reflection? Is she alone, or following someone else? Is this image a metaphor for a journey, or change? Is this even “finished” at all? Where is she going – and why? Is she passing through a portal to another plane of existence? My eyes come back to it again and again, wondering.

…Funny what gets our attention…

This other thing I have in mind is thus far just a glimmer of a shape, colors, an idea with it’s roots in a terrible nightmare, but on it’s own it’s just an image… a thought. Can I get it on canvas? Will it tell me something I don’t know? Will it help me communicate something for which I lack words? There’s no way to know until I put brush to canvas and see it take shape.

…It’s time to begin again.

Long weekend. I slept in this morning. Enjoyed coffee with my Traveling Partner. Cooked a simple breakfast for the two of us to start our day on. He’s in the shop working. I’m… shopping? Running errands? Doing a bit of housekeeping? Finishing some chore left half-completed? Loitering in the living room hoping to hang out with my partner when he takes a break? The day started to develop down that commonplace path, in spite of having taken the day off (and planned the long weekend) with the intention of spending a major portion of that time enjoying creative time in my studio. A fairly typical outcome for me; I’ve got priors. lol I really do need this time for myself, spent creatively, and yes, also spent entirely in my own head, with my own thoughts, focused on my own needs and agenda. I don’t think I’m unusual that I struggle to follow through on time for myself and my own needs. It’s a pretty ordinary challenge for a lot of people (perhaps especially women, but certainly not exclusively women).

So, today I “held my ground” (with myself) and pulled my focus back to creative endeavors after breakfast. Well, after the breakfast dishes were done, and I’d updated a shopping list for later. Okay, and also after finishing a project I’d left sort of dangling. And, yes, also after I got a quick trip to the store out of the way. LOL See what I mean? This is a tough one for me. Self-care is often most difficult for people who most earnestly need to invest time in their self-care… which makes a lot of sense, if I consider that the reason some of us have this earnest heartfelt unmet need is 100% due to the lack of fulfilling it in the first place, rather chronically. I can do better. I need that from myself.

So, I made my second coffee and headed to the studio. Started up my computer, and loaded a file in which I keep a variety of inspiring images, and items that are likely to “tickle my imagination” and become new work. The slideshow slowly progresses on the monitor to my left, while I write. In the background, I hear my partner handling business with a customer on the phone. It “feels like home”. I breathe in and feel the sense of safety and security of “home”. I breathe out, smiling. It’s a nice place to find myself in life. “This too shall pass…” my anxiety ominously whispers in my head. I just laugh silently; I’ll enjoy it while it lasts, and count myself fortunate to enjoy it at all. The future is an unknown, I remind my anxiety, and I’m okay with that.

I sip my coffee and consider the blank canvas in front of me, and the images in the slideshow. Most of these images are appealing landscapes (mostly my own photography), colorful sunrises and sunsets, and bold flowers shot very close up, filling the screen with silky texture, interesting shadows, and brilliant color. I consider that thematically. Seems like I want to be painting landscapes more than abstraction, presently. I continue to drink my coffee contentedly. Is this “where I’m at” presently?

…My Traveling Partner sticks his head in the open door of my studio to share words about work. I listen, staying engaged and present. I don’t count it as a distraction; my door is still open, by intent. I’ll close the door when it comes time to focus, when I know I’ll want to be left entirely alone with myself. In spite of how badly I know I need that time, I’m also aware that my partner values my presence, and that “feeling rejected” entirely sucks, especially if that feeling is conveyed by someone we love. Finding balance between the shared connected time he (and we) need with the alone time that I need to be mentally well has one very important requirement; I have to make (and take) the time I need. There is a “sweet spot”… but actually doing the verbs is on me.

Self-care is so often almost comedic in its difficulties. I’m the one person I can also count on to be right here with me… and the one person who also knows precisely what I do actually want and need most. Counting on anyone else to ensure my needs are met, with those two details in mind, is… a bit crazy. So… I’ve given up on that. It’s lovely when my Traveling Partner meets needs I have. It’s splendid when my work environment and job meet some of my actual needs. Same with friends, with family, with circumstances… it’s wonderful when needs are met through happenstance or healthy relationships or mutual support, but… learning to count on myself to meet my own fucking self-care needs? That has had soooo much value (and so much less “crazy” to it). It’s too easy to be frustrated when some Other does not meet my needs… but it’s exceptionally foolish to expect them to in the first place.

So. Here I sit. Images and inspiration filling my thoughts, as I prepare for a day in the studio. It’s lovely. I’m glad I made the time – I need this for myself to feel entirely well and whole and complete. I’m even more appreciative that having made the time, I’m also taking the time, to do the verbs. Needs met? Looks that way…

…It’s time to begin (again).

Oh, hey – Valentine’s Day again. lol My thoughts on this day are complicated…

2013 – How about I be my own Valentine? (oddly my most popular post of all time)

2014 – (Love is) Enough Already

2015 – A Little Matter of Sufficiency

2016 – Love’s Magic Mirror

2017 – It’s Okay to Love

2018 – Happy VD!

2019 – Let It Go (not even about Valentine’s Day)

2020 – Press Pause (also not actually about Valentine’s Day)

2021 – I just didn’t even write, at all

2022 – It’s Got a Good Beat (actually written the day after Valentine’s Day)

Some years I’ve spent Valentine’s Day alone. That hasn’t been a problem for me. Other years I’ve enjoyed the companionship of friends, or in the embrace of a lover, or with my Traveling Partner. In the abstract, I enjoy the idea of a holiday celebrating sexual and romantic love very much. I still think it is super weird that card giveaways by multitudes of school children have anything at all to do with that. Just seems wildly inappropriate to mix all those things up together, is what I’m saying.

Last night my Traveling Partner looked over at me, “I didn’t get you anything for Valentine’s Day” he observed with a somewhat regretful tone. “I didn’t get you anything either.” I replied, rather matter-of-factly. I immediately felt that perhaps I should have – although most years we haven’t done anything much about Valentine’s Day besides love each other. Last year was unusual – fairly spectacular, honestly. This year I made plans to make a really nice dinner for the two of us, nothing exotic, just good cooking. I am even counting on myself not to be shy about romance and instigating some adult fun after work. My anxiety can sometimes get in my way, and the awareness of it alone can provoke it, but I’m feeling good about myself and the day, and my partner, and love generally, so… I have hopes for a pleasant evening of companionship, love, and romance. Expensive gifts are not a requirement.

It hits me out of the blue; intimacy needs presence not presents. I could have taken the day off and spent it in the company of love. Fucking hell. How is this only now something I think of? I make a reminder on my calendar in the distant future – a year away, minus a couple weeks, “Get Valentine’s Day Off!!”. Along the way, I notice the long weekend coming up with unexpected relief and delight; I apparently thought ahead to planning Friday off in advance of the 3-day President’s Day weekend. Damn, I hope I don’t blow it with my bullshit… we could really use a lovely long weekend spent enjoying each other’s company.

“Lovers” 1991

Love takes work. Not one day of cards, flowers, gifts, and chocolates – real work, every day. Real commitment. Real consideration. Real respect. Real caring. No faking it with love, either. Love sees through fakery pretty easily, in spite of all the “love is blind” shit we hear. Love can be hurt. Love can be damaged. Love can even be destroyed – how tragic that is! I take a breath, and think about love. I sigh out loud in this quiet space, and remind myself how many delightful wonderful experiences still take some effort, or some practice, to really “get it right”. I think about love for a few minutes, just sitting here smiling and sipping my coffee.

…I’m fortunate to be so well loved…

“Cherry Blossoms” 2011

I yawn and stretch, and watch the dark of night give way to the pale blue gray of a wintry dawn. I think about my Traveling Partner, still asleep at home, unaware of the snow that fell during the night. I hope his dreams are pleasant. I think back on all the things he’s done to make life better for us over the past couple of years since he moved back in with me… it’s been, what, about 4 years? December 2018, I think…? Wow. We’ve come so far together in such a short time. 😀

I sit here just smiling for awhile, thinking about this human being I love so dearly. I think about yesterday’s bit of writing, and better ways to demonstrate my affection day-to-day…

…It’s time to begin again.