I have been struggling with what to write about for the last couple of days. The drafts have been started but I hate them all. I’ve considered immortalization and the ways we struggle to achieve it, I’ve seen my dead dog in my livingroom, I’ve written drafts and edited them….but here’s the thing. My drawing right now is fantastic. I guess that’s why I have two outlets. When one is dry I switch to the other.
I don’t need to think when I’m drawing…just be extremely observant. It’s kind of fantastic really to be able to see the blues and greens in a person’s face…to understand where their skin tone needs to be darkened with a darker gray to create the shadows. And how not all shadows are gray but may have a hint of red within them depending on the sunlight.
My art show is coming up in a few months. And half of my show is complete. No problem, only two months left to be prepared. No problem at all lol.
So what have we learned from this?
That I love to both draw and write…and that it’s ok to drop one in order to enjoy the other. I’ve learned that I enjoy my talents and that I shouldn’t stop doing either of them. I’ve also learned that Katy Perry looks good in a Miley Cyrus haircut. And that when I draw and drink late at night I should have some comfy pillows near by so that my neck isn’t stiff when I fall asleep on the couch.
There is a moment during intercourse when a woman suddenly slides down the other side into orgasm. It’s a single moment and then she can’t turn back..it’s upon her and she is caught up and everything else is released…I find that it is the same with drinking…It is a gradual build that suddenly pushes you over the other side. And you are suddenly drunk and caught up in an introspective whirlwind of emotion and release and drunkenness….
Since the half marathon I haven’t been able to run. My foot is sore when I’m even sitting down. So I’ve rested. Gone from running almost 50km a week to none. My body and mind is fidgety, I’m over sensitive and crave any kind of release I can get. And so I’ve been enjoying a few drinks. It’s allowed isn’t it? It’s allowed me to accept, to be open to other possibilities and to have faith in what the future holds. Everyone needs rest. Everyone needs a break from training, studying, or any other intense practice.
It’s torture to not do what it is you love to do. It’s torture to force yourself to hide the yearning you feel for something that you believe you are meant to be doing…I’m convincing myself that it is ok. That eventually I will get back to it…that I will be ok…and if not; well then I can evolve and find something new to do. I feel this torture because of the looming fear that I will never get to do it again. The pessimistic versus the hopeful. I’ve got both and they are in a constant struggle these days. Doesn’t seem like much to an outsider but for someone who experiences her closest sense of freedom pounding the pavement with or without her children and hasn’t run in two weeks…internally it’s beginning to feel desperate. And self destructive.
This too will pass. It all does…as humans we just refuse to accept it.
So I will have another small drink…enjoy a little more drawing and then head to bed.
Tomorrow is another day.
This mother’s day I would like to recognize the mothers of everyone I love. The moms who helped shape the people in my life who have meant the most to me…who have helped to shape who I am and how I feel about myself and the world around me.
I want to acknowledge all the moms who have lost their identities as they’ve chosen to rank themselves third or forth in the family because it seemed like the right thing to do. All those moms who gave so much that they no longer know who they are or what they like. The moms who attempt to do the right thing for their kids but never for themselves. The moms who are so uncomfortable in their own skin, afraid of what to do or say incase they make the wrong choices. The moms who can’t sleep at night due to the guilt that lingers with them…who are afraid of everything they’ve said and done and how they may have fucked up their children beyond repair. The moms who can’t look at themselves in the mirror, the moms who make mistakes, the moms who fear the worst and are paranoid about every fear, joy, accident and possibility.
I want to acknowledge the moms who struggle to feed their children. Who struggle to provide feminine and masculine examples for their children as a single parent.
The moms who will never know what it feels like to hold and cuddle their child.
The moms who feel a responsibility to be everything to everyone.
Being a mom is the most joyful, and dreadful job there is. No one acknowledges it…no one thanks you ….or takes you out for lunch for a good job. You have to be it every day, all day, no exceptions. There are no days off, no sick days, no days you can slack and just turn it all off. Your children depend on you. They don’t care, at a young age, how you feel or what kind of day you’ve had. They want what they want when they want it and if you don’t provide it they will hit, spit, and call you names.
So give your mom a kiss today. Thank her for everything she’s done and given you…because she’s never not been there…even if you thought differently.
Most of us have this inner sound judgement that prevents us from dropping our screaming babies on their heads, or getting into the car and driving away from anything and everything that we do not like within our homes. We all care and feel and empathize enough to know better but…we all think it…at some point. Don’t we?
I remember as a teenager wanting to take dramatic steps to be seen or heard…of course they are teenage thoughts that are desperate and urgent in a teenager’s mind. But they don’t necessarily go away…
What would you do if there wasn’t any repercussions to your actions?
What if we all acted on our instincts? What if we all acted without fears…would that make us happier?
We are brought up on gorgeous stories of happy endings, and fantastical possibilities…I think we choose to go one of two ways. Either those stories create a dreamer who believes in the magic of possibilities and openness and everything our hearts desire…or they create a skeptic. Someone who doesn’t believe in much. Who is organized and analytical and structured. Neither is worse than the other. I guess it depends on who you are and which way you’ve chosen to turn. I just wonder…if we are where we are supposed to be. And how do you know?
Life is gorgeous. How do you care for and enjoy something that is so amazing…without taking it for granted? And is searching for true happiness taking it for granted or just trying to be truthful?
(some random thoughts for a Thursday night)
My acting career failed miserably.
After running away to NYC to escape my insecurities and lack of popularity in theatre college; I was overwhelmed with the jungle of opportunities in the infamous city. I held my own in an acting class in Hell’s Kitchen but outside those doors I had no idea what to do.
Basically, I gave up. With no guidance or map to success; it felt helpless and hopeless and so I drifted until my time had run out.
When I planned to run the half this past weekend to set a world record…although I am a bit of a drama queen with a love for attention and the sound of my own voice…I did not even consider the media frenzy that could occur. A little fame if I was to be entered into the big book of Guinness – sure, but that would take time. I was interested in the lesson I was hoping to teach my children, I was looking forward to the euphoric post run feeling and the ability to over indulge. And of course the bragging rights of doing something that no one else had ever been recorded doing.
Well, I got to enjoy those…but I’ve also enjoyed a good amount of popularity unexpectedly. I’ve googled my name and have been recognized on the street. By tomorrow everyone will have forgotten but the last few days….well, I get how actors who have suddenly caught a successful wave feel. I’m not making the money…but I am thinking about how I can capitalize on this success. Keep it alive a little longer perhaps? Or somehow tie it to my next endeavor.
Let’s be honest. I don’t really want it to disappear. I want to breathe more life into it…keep it floating…keep my face recognizable until at least the next time I have a huge success. Who wouldn’t right? I don’t think I want to be able to say “Do you know who you’re talking to?” but it would be nice to know that I could if I wanted to. At least once.
So I’ve got some big projects coming up this year. (I guess this is where I start plugging my next big leaps of faith)
August will mark my very first art show ever. I started working on my political pieces back in January and of course it’s less than a third done – which will ultimately add a shit load of stress to my shoulders. I will get the opportunity to experience euphoria once it has opened…but in the meantime it will feel hopeless like most of my endeavors. I’ve just learned to envision past the hopelessness. That and I’ve decided to take on projects that allow me to have most of the control. (perhaps that was what I was missing back in my 20s)
So although no one will know my name tomorrow and my blog will be back to an audience of 20 until I do something amazing again or someone else dies….I have big plans ahead. Don’t count me out yet please. Hold on for a couple months and check in every once and a while.
Is there something you want to do?
Anything you’ve always thought about…talked about…started planning and then it fizzled when life got in the way?
I don’t mean to write as though I’m trying to sell you something…I just wonder how many people have ideas that have never gone past their front door. How many people are holding onto ideas that they assume would be seen as crazy so they pack it neatly away in their underwear drawer.
What else are we here to do if not explore and create and play? Finances and family/friend/work pressures aside…what’s the point if we can’t take some risks?
Recently I saw a fantastic short animation film about the pressures of society and how it squashes our creativity and joy. My kids love it and viewed it in the simplest terms of being plain and simple; SAD.
It is sad when we are slowly untaught how to enjoy this crazy existence in order to learn how to cope, exist, survive. It is sad when our curiosity for the world around us as toddlers is forced into a box of what is right and wrong. It is sad when we find ourselves as adults looking back at everything we wanted to do but never did due to work and paying the bills. I’m sorry but; what the hell kind of life is that????
Speaking from some recent experience; if you’ve got an idea that others roll their eyes at…you should probably push through and DO IT! We are all capable of doing soooo much. So much more than we believe we are capable of…due to our self doubt and insecuirities…If you truly believe you can do something…enough so that you’re willing to just jump…a net will catch you. Unconsciously we create that net ourselves through our inner strength, friendships, faith, love…and all that good stuff that makes life worth living. We just don’t trust it enough. And why should we if the people around us doubt it so will we.
I’ve always wondered about those people who have made millions being involved in those pyramid companies. I’m not endorsing them but for those people who go in just really believing in it (no criminal activity of course)…they seem to end up living the dream that they envisioned. Think about it. You can’t go in with glasses of doubt though and just assume it will work because it did for other…you really truly need to believe.
So why not believe in you? Whatever it is you may want to do. If it’s something you’ve always wanted to do then deep down you have always believed that you could…otherwise you would have let it go years ago…
SO DO IT.
Don’t give two shits about the rolling of eyes or what others may say or judge…just do it.
Have faith in the one thing that will always be truly yours….YOU.
BELIEVE IN YOU. DO IT.
I remember a time when I wanted so badly to be recognized, to be seen and known. I think it’s ingrain in me somewhere out of a need for attention. Why else would someone go into acting when they had always wanted to be a veterinarian?
I think now it’s because I always had a story in me. I had stories to tell and I wanted someone to hear me. Someone being many…being the whole of my home town, and maybe the nearest local city…or maybe the city that was alive in my dreams…
Being known is scary.
For people to really see you? That’s terrifying…but not really real.
I’ve been exposed recently. It wasn’t my goal…it was an outcome of a goal of mine that I proudly achieved. I hadn’t thought beyond that accomplishment though. I had no idea that I’d be able to google my name or that I’d receive emails from people who wanted to tell my story. Why would anyone want that?
It’s addictive. And euphoric. And intimidating. And terrifying.
It runs away from you before you ever get a chance to hold it in your hands. It flies and covers more space and time than you ever thought possible and then suddenly…more suddenly than you’re willing to accept…it will disappear. It hasn’t yet for me. I’m still flying and giving interviews and discovering new photos of me.
Only no one is really listening now…two days later…except for those trying to make a story out of me. Trying to be the first. Cover the angle no one has covered.
I’ve thought about the next time. Honestly, I’ve started PLANNING for the next time. Why not? Why would I miss a chance to experience the last day and a half again? I would do it all again for that day and a half. A whole year of planning for that day and a half.
I’ve never done well with letting things go.