In the last few weeks, maybe months, I had found myself succumbing to that familiar old sensation called “fear”. You know, the fear of doing anything for the fact that it might actually be completely ignored and inconsequential in the fabric of the lives of those who you are trying to impress. I found myself ground to a halt yet once again. I haven’t finished my latest projects in the art studio and Jason…poor Jason Leeks. He has been stuck in the cockpit of a spaceship shortly from his kidnapping and has made no progress at all. This is frustrating and I had really thought I was beyond this little problem but alas, I don’t think it will ever go away.
Then this happened:
It has started to put things into perspective. I have no art supplies currently in the temporary apartment we are living at these days. I didn’t lose everything but they took it all when they cleared the house for cleaning and have shoved it all into storage. Its just as well because this temporary housing has no place for me to set anything up. However, I am dying to create; to get my hands on anything and make something. I have some great friends who have provided me the basics of sketch pads and drawing pencils — thank freakin’ jeebus.
I have been trying to get myself out of the corporate world for so long and go through this stop/start rhythm for so long. I had recently started doing some freelance work online for accounting/administration type work and it was going pretty well. I was beginning to see a light that would get me out of my drudgery and into a home office where I would have more time to write and create then…fire. There is also a great mentoring program that is taking applications for a year long artist mentorship with a local artist who has mastered the skill of creating his own business from his talent. You get to spend a year working in the studio in his gallery and with his guidance learn what it takes to get yourself to the next step. I’m terrified and don’t know if I’m ready to make that leap but if not now….when? The biggest hurdle in my mind IS my mind. I know my limits with stress. Being bi-polar I have to be very conscious of how much stress I allow in my life and I have to make sure I do not take on so many responsibilities that I overwhelm my brain. This causes a rather negative outcome and ends with me usually in a corner looking down on myself wondering about my very existence. It is not pretty and nor is it conducive to actually accomplishing anything. In the midst of this internal struggle I am searching for a new full-time job. My contract stint is running out of time and I’m running out of patience with the ridiculousness of this monkey work. Can I handle a new job AND the mentorship program? I don’t know but I feel like I have to try. Yet, fear sets in and has me hiding in the shadows. *sigh* I hate my brain sometimes.
And poor Jason Leeks. His story has been playing itself out in my mind on a regular basis but I can’t seem to get it out of there. He has been sitting in that cockpit in the middle of an argument now for a couple of months with no end in sight. My house catching fire and being put out for what could be up to six months for repairs is making me really evaluate myself and how I keep letting things stand in my way and become an excuse. I don’t know if this will finally get me back on track or not but I know it has me seriously contemplating on why I have been letting something as silly as *fear* of going unnoticed stop me from accomplishing things. It is not like I’m exactly a glowing spotlight of recognition at the moment so it is not like I’m making it worse. So, decisions to be made including paint colors for my entire house (which is rather exciting because I have HATED the color of all my walls for years now) and getting myself to accept full commitment to the things that I have started and wish to see through regardless of what my mind is trying to tell me.
Keep an eye out for a new site coming up. I’m working on getting one dedicated solely to my artwork and you’ll be able to purchase existing artwork or we can communicate about a commission created as a collobartion of your personality and my artistic interpretation for you. Whether I actually make a huge contribution to the world or not, I’m going to try.
Okay – after drinking myself into an uncoordinated mess over the weekend, I did NOT get my first prompt written. In fact, I stayed so far away from my computer you’d think I was afraid of contracting some third world country disease. After this visit into oblivion I realized I cannot run from this desire. I want this so I must confront the blank space that is my brain when it comes to writing. The first prompt in my writing bootcamp is the perfect beginning. I am to write a break-up letter with my writer’s block. It sounds horribly cheesy but I’m thinking this is going to be super cathartic and very helpful in getting my words flowing again.
So, without further ado, I bid my writer’s block farewell.
Dear Writer’s Block –
Over the years we have spent many nights together. It has been a rough road of time spent lying in silent agony with you next to me. While you probably never realized the uncomfortable quiet was due to my desire to have you leave, I never the less have always wanted you out of my life.
I know this is a harsh and abrupt letter; one that you did not expect from such a loyal lover of your negativity. It must end. I need my time back and I need my creativity with words to once again be a part of my life. So, as I write this I am freeing you from my mind and letting you go. I hope you never return and I honestly do not wish you upon any other person.
Go now. I no longer need your binds that tie me and keep me silent.
I take several smoke breaks throughout my day while at work. We have a lovely wooded spot set aside just for us to enjoy while we inhale our toxic fumes and pray for relaxation in the rat race called work. While I am taking said breaks I get to watch a circus of pill bugs every day. They are hilarious. I’m not sure why but they have a tendancy to manuevor the world in circles. They will start out going in small little rotations and then progress to larger and larger circumventations. Why this entertains me? I don’t know, it just does and I enjoy it every day. Until today.
There is only one other smoker in this building besides me. A tiny grumy old man. All he ever wants to talk about is the weather and the bamboo stalks that are growing in the yard. I just want to beat my head against the bricks when he happens to smoke at the same time as me. Well, today he managed to really show me what kind of a horrible person he truly is beyond the banal conversations. While he was pacing the sidewalk he stared at the ground and then when one of my funny little pill bugs happened in front of his path he STEPPED on the poor thing. What the hell has a pill bug ever done to you buddy??!!? I tried to chalk it up to accident. Except as he stood in contemplative stupidity staring at the ground another one ventured from the grass onto the sidewalk. He took a step. “NOOOOOO, RUN LITTLE BUDDY!!” Is all I could think. Then he PURPOSELY took two more steps to MURDER my little friend. What. The. Hell. Of all the little creepy crawlies in the world you are going to go out of your way to step on and kill pill bugs?!?
You sir are a bastard.
Sorry little friends. From now on I’m going to make sure and relocate you as you find your way on the sidewalk. Otherwise I may be knocking some old ass fucker to the ground the next time I see him.
RIP little buddies
Jane’s Addiction people. More tomorrow with pics.
Let’s see, it was three weeks ago now that things sorta just imploded for me. The first two weeks weren’t bad really however there apparently wasn’t any sleep going on for me. I didn’t even notice anything changing. Then my vacation ended at the second week and I headed back to the office.
Never realized how dangerous it could be to just follow routine and go to work. Monday and Tuesday were pretty uneventful but Wednesday is when things started to go bad. The first thing I noticed was the trembling in my body, then the animal like rapid heartbeat kicked in and I couldn’t catch my breath. My head was killing me and I started to feel a bit out of touch with the world around me. It was the way I used to feel regularly before starting to get treatment for my bi-polar. I decided to go home and sleep it off. I went back the next day and the same shit happened again. Too much. Alarms were going off so I made an appointment with my doctor, emergency appointment.
I got new meds to help with the symptoms but the doctor needed my blood work back before confirming any issue that might be causing this roller coaster of panic. Finally, Friday, I get my blood work done and head to the office. Next thing I know I am standing in the office of our HR director and I’m flipping the fuck out. WHAT?!!? I left work that day and haven’t been able to do much of anything.
Leaving the house is at least easier now but I feel like anything that requires more than a simple thought process is going to crush me. I have talked with a few trusted friends and they always bring up the stress factors in my life. Yes, I have a few…hundred of those. I have an appointment with my Dr on Thursday. I don’t know if I’d rather here I’m just done upstairs and need a break or I’m just a lazy twat who needs to be grown up and put on my big girl panties. Yeah, I know that sounds like its easy but really when I have to decide on the simplest things like bagging my groceries and I’m almost reduced to tears because I don’t know the right answer to that question. Something is off and not in a good way.
I just don’t know what is wrong with me and I think the part that scares me most is that I’m always the one to get shit done. Always. I fear decisions now like I didn’t even know possible. What the hell do you do when you can’t make decisions without turning into a crumbling mess.
I’m about to get all teachery and preachy on you now. It’s annoying but it was going to happen eventually. You are on MY website which I started in order to get all preachy and shit. First, I have a story to preface my “I’m gonna tell you like it is” speech. It’s fun, I promise. Just sit down and listen, you might learn yourself something.
Here’s how the story goes:
Some years ago, too many drinks to remember how far back, the Hubby and I were being entertained by an older friend or family member (again the drinks). They were describing how at one time either they or it was their parents (glug, glug) lived in a very affluent neighborhood. They didn’t have much furniture and spent a lot of money on window dressings to help hide the emptiness of the house which was big and fabulous and disgustingly located in some ritzy ass neighborhood. Really not a big deal actually but here was the kicker. They had bought a nice fancy car to fit in with the neighbors, a real keeping up with the Jones’ kinda car. Well, this big fancy car was missing air conditioning. Now, you may think big deal but see this is Houston. If the heat isn’t too bad just wait the humidity will kick in and you’ll BEG for winter. So, fancy car, fancy house but no AC in said fancy car. In the midst of the August heat of our great southern location they would roll into their neighborhood and would immediately roll up their windows and then suffer to their driveway so no one would know they couldn’t afford air conditioning. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!!!! Who the fuck puts the ideas and opinions of others ahead of the own health and comfort? Oh wait, that would be a huge part of the population on this great planet.
Okay – so stories over now I rant. I thought of this while driving home after work and imaging what it would have felt like to have to do that in order to make peace in my mind with the opinions of others. The heat is never below 100 degrees this summer. I just don’t comprehend this thought process. I can’t put the two thoughts together to make any sort of rational sense. In the mighty words of Popeye, “I ya’m what I ya’m and that’s all that I ya’m!” What drives these people? I will admit in my youth I was one who was striving to fit in and be “like” the rest of my peers. It was about the time that I was 15 and was almost in a throw down fist fight with some stupid bitch in my class because she was judging my boyfriend who she had never met and didn’t even go to our school. I have no idea how she even knew who he was but she was bound and determined to make me understand that he was a louse and a horrible human being. I think I snapped that day. Who the fuck are any of you to judge me and decide who I should be? I don’t see how people can do that to others. I don’t see how people allow others to do that to them. Possessions are just that, possessions. They don’t make you into anything other than a pretentious ass trying to collect all the toys before you die. None of that shit goes with you when you take your final breath. There is no private vault like the Egyptians thought would be needed to provide all the riches of your life to you once your heart stopped going thump thump. I know who I am and I love it. I do everything I can to instill this in my children. I have a daughter who has more fashion sense in her than I have in my own pinky and a son who could give two shits what you might have to say about him.
I will never forget the stupidity that boils up and seeps out of the very pores of people around you. I, at one time many many glug glugs ago, had a Mohawk and still have a tattoo on my head. When I did this my status immediately became LESBIAN. Never mind the boyfriend standing next to me grabbing my boobs. I was a LESBIAN because I all of a sudden looked like one to them. Stupid Stupid Stupid. Of course, this really didn’t bother me because I know who I am and always have for a long time. I’m comfortable with my sloppy way of dressing, addiction to music, love of all things art, owning more heels than tennis shoes, my vast collection of bracelets and my tenacity for making all things in life fun and exciting for my kids. I am me and no one else gets to decide this for me. If there is one thing in this life my kids will learn from me, it will be that you get to decide who you are no one else and once you have that vision of you; never EVER let anyone change it with their petty personal opinions of you.
I go to sleep at night holding dear the thoughts, ideas and memories of what is most precious to me. I can take that with me when I exhale for the last time. Can you pack that fancy house up and take it with you? That’s what I thought….
For the ones out there in the world who judge I say – KISS MY ASS. All of it and its round fatness.
There was a young woman who worked and toiled her days away to make a living for her and her family. She took a job that, while provided, was not what she really wanted to do with herself. What helped keep her sane was the vacation she got to take at least once a year. A full week away from the office. A full week of no driving a round trip two hour commute and no having to wear stupid restrictive “office” attire with heels. Yet, this year, vacation has not exactly provided the release from the insanity that consumes her daily.
Fuck life. I don’t ask for much but you know, its always at the times when you need just the smallest reward or what would you say……liberation! I need some of that dammit. I work hard. I deserve my vacation to be everything I want and then some but oh well. I can say that I have been getting some writing done and I’m prepping for a new painting. I got to get a new lesson from the hubby on the camera he gave me. I am going to an art opening tomorrow night. I hope to bring back some information on some great artist. It’s going to be at the Gallery M in the Heights. “Neopopstreetfunk 3” It will be awesome I can already tell from the invite I received today.
My little demoness is working on making her first dress during this week. She is doing really great with some help from family and friends. Her dream is to grow up and be a fashion designer. If she really works and keep going as she is now I can totally see her fulfilling that dream. She has a great eye for colors and patterns. She is my retirement plan.
Well- I think I hear the Captain calling my name. There is the definite bonus to vacation. I’m drunk whenever the hell I wish to be..which is now please.
Till drunk me signs on later –