Something silly I painted on a piece of brown paper bag earlier this summer.
Of the newer songs I’ve worked on, this one is a favorite. It was the final poem I wrote from a collection stemming from the time at my previous job.
Unnoticed and unneeded…
The daily nightmare your fears
Could never dream.
And would your future dare have me
Continue to live as I know not to be?
For one breath – one instance beyond all defeat…
How can hope be worth anymore my belief?
I am the only one left to deceive –
The only one who has not given enough
A lot of new paintings and music on the way. No good news as far as finding employment, but I’m still managing to live and tolerate this waiting. Therapy is going very well and I hope for good things once my classes begin next week.
These are photos I took back in July while outside at my family reunion. I had to get away for a little while and found some peace in looking up at the clouds that day.
A new poem song below. I was feeling weak when I recorded this and you can hear it in my voice, but it fits for the moment it was written–when I was trying to get through something that felt impossible to beat. I say I wish I could go back and fix all that I’ve ruined, but I don’t mean it anymore. It wouldn’t make me worth anything more to those in my life and I would still have difficulty forgiving myself as I do now.
To Wish Upon
Let go of the night.
But I would breathe again if I
Could just keep closed my eyes
And be safe and found
And be filled with the sound of sky…
The hidden space of time before time,
Before life…before light…
If I could just keep closed my eyes.
I’ve enrolled in a water color class set to being early September. One night a week for about two months. I’ve been discussing a lot in my sessions about how I’ve lived so far without fun or enjoyment of my own life ever in mind. I do things that I think are expected of me rather than building decisions around what future I want for myself (something I’ve never seriously given thought to). So having made this choice to take a class for something I’m actually interested in was a big step for me. There’s always risk of regret, especially when I feel undeserving to begin with, but I am looking forward to the class and hope enough others are registered to see it through.
I am right handed and this is a crayon drawing done completely with my left hand. One of those random things on my list of little art challenges. I didn’t know what subject to draw so an eye is my usual default.
Below are photos of the first few, poor pages of the art journal project I mentioned having started. I write at least one decent thing in it everyday while also constructing/designing each page. I meant to bring it to therapy with me today, but didn’t think it was at the point of being presentable enough for me to share with my doctor yet.
First two pages…
Clips of page three and four inverted…
Yes, my first entries are cheesy and I feel embarrassed after these last few weeks from what’s now being written, but I had to make a start somehow and this is it. I cut out words from a magazine and used them to make up my own lines- things I hope will help me keep myself alive and out of harms way when I fall into very low moods. It may not work, but for now just having something constructive like this to fill some hours with is just enough.
I hope to have a new song or two to share sometime this weekend.
This painting was unplanned and one I procrastinated with, but once I began coloring, it reminded me of the phrase “You can’t squeeze blood from a turnip.” A phrase I grew up hearing my mother say. So I guess that’s what it will represent to me now, blood being squeezed from a turnip…lol That and also pressure in general, being cornered without an option to turn to or anything to bargain with. That seems to be where my days rest most often. I’m still with hope there is more I will eventually be able to do to change this all for the better.
I have updated my music page as well. Every original piece so far is there, all free for listening and otherwise.
This is a mixed media piece. There’s newspaper shreds, mirror shards, more paper and layers of paint.
Hits Against Glass
By Sunday I am sick enough
To never need another one.
How to carry over
With usefulness out done?
When tearing is laid to rest as torn?
I am chips of a worn plate
With the cracks of too many
Knives and blades.
We break until we break and
Must always take the pain
A little further past the
Limits of our shame.
The poem here is one of several I wrote as I worked through some of the most difficult days at my last job. I’m making an effort to stay with a more positive outlook by planning new projects that challenge me to be constructive. I recently finished binding a journal and decorating it with the intention of filling it with pages dedicated to good things (quotes, images, poem lines, positive experiences/contributions I make to impact others). So far I’ve been hesitant to write anything just because, as with anything I haven’t done before, I fear messing up an attempt rather than never having tried. But that’s a challenge to break past too and I will.
I’m still jobless and further set back from being able to stand on my own, but I’m trying to change what I can while I still have the mind to.