The first watercolor, or painting at all in weeks. Done in a rush to release some ill energy. I’ve pulled myself together enough in the past week to begin new art projects, all far enough in progress for it to bother me if they aren’t completed.
I also wanted to share a poem/song I finished about two months past now. A piece drawing more on inner strength I guess. Things have been difficult, but it’s never going to be different. Some days that is easier to cope with than others, but I will say blood has yet to be drawn so I’m hanging in here okay.
Settle In Proof
Look up now.
Keep breathing out.
You are fine – all is right.
Cold tremble within now be
At your will.
When here, failure at first try will not kill.
Don’t be the weak vessel.
Don’t fear to be filled.
You are not useless or so made thin
To spill at the very least taken sip.
You know how to feel.
Now settle in proof what is real.
The truth will haunt between
Every meaning of might.
You may just fly midway into the fall.
Your quiet whisper might just be
The single heard call.
Seek the change for best,
For only or
Not at all.
I am still in the choir, btw. Agreeing to commit to all activities MUSE related at least until after the November 22nd concert.
We rise to our feet,
Unfix our eyes from the ground.
Looking up and around –
Reaching with hunger towards the sound.
Reaching with our voices, we call out
And feel the spirit sing.
And by its wondrous song,
Its joy, grace and awe,
We spread our wings.
Recorded a bit over two weeks back–when I was so much more optimistic about my chances of auditioning for the women’s choir and using this piece. I’ve been working full time at a job that calls for standing seven hours of my day, then I come home and search for coding/billing jobs (all the new positions I can apply to with my new certification to hopefully help). So I’ve been tired and drained of faith that the choir is the right thing to even look towards now. I do know I’m testing myself in how much more I can tolerate before I feel like I’m losing my grip again. Before I feel like losing my grip is the best and a sought after outcome for how terrible the day to day trying may begin to feel. Somehow everyday I’m showing up. How long it lasts is anyone’s guess.
Below is the piano version I originally paired these lines with.
I apologize for the awful vid quality. My piano doesn’t sound that bad in real time…lol
This is part of what I will be sharing next weekend at the show.
Smaller painted pins.
Crafty pins: buttons / beads / paint /fabric.
My display board for the art walk.
Thursday we set up and Friday at 6pm is the opening night.
I have to admit, I’ve been stressing. I’m probably doing too much for two evenings that may not leave me feeling it was worth all this effort. Old habits and thoughts have been springing up as I hear myself saying ‘it needs to be just right’. I’m a perfectionist and when nothing seems right, something in me would rather destroy all that is than settle with what I can’t control.
So, I’m taking a break the next few days and will make time for my piano and writing again. Preventing a down turn in mood and coping behaviors, I will try to stay ahead of the worse moments.
This is the first portrait I’ve drawn in long months so it’s probably more off than I’d be comfortable with had I kept practice. I started it just because I thought it was a shame I’ve drawn so many portraits of people I’ll never meet and never took care for those among me. My mother is overly critical of her appearance and it hurts me to hear the harshness and true dislike. Something must have been said to her long ago that’s just rooted itself into her mind and thoughts about who she is and her self worth. Just my guessing there, but I wonder if something similar didn’t happen to me and I’m not realizing it, or know it would hurt too much to find out.
Anyway, this is complete and I plan to give her both the original and this print version as a gift sometime soon. This week’s studying has been a monster and I hardly have time for a meal, yet somehow between leaving work in the morning and late nights I got this portrait done…lol I’ve really appreciated her extra support lately, especially as we prepare for the art walk next month. I haven’t seen her so enthusiastic to be a part of something I’ve chosen to do in a long time and it’s nice.
I will probably disappear for another week or two so that I can focus on what I’m trying to learn. It’s going okay. The pressure is on me though and I hope I remember this is not as life or death as the moments lead me to feel. I chose this and just need to see it through no matter what the outcome…
These are both recent watercolor paintings. I know the point of using watercolor is its translucent/transparent quality and I pretty much disregarded any rules, but I thought I may learn to like working with it better if I could create something I didn’t all together hate. I had to get through the frustration watercolor causes me and have a little fun at the expense of attention toward developing perfect skills. So anyway, these were fun.
This first week of work (thank God I only go part time) truly tested me. The grip over my social anxiety has definitely improved as I didn’t panic and run when I encountered customers with questions. And I get along great with my department team mate.
But I also realize during the moments I was overwhelmed with stress, the familiar life/death, all or nothing set up took over my mind. I realize I’ve come to consider myself just as disposable as these jobs begin to feel the instant I’m made aware that all isn’t and won’t be the way I’d expected. Disappointment throws me far back still, especially when my own expectations are the true cause.
Just waiting for another day where I’m honestly happy to wake up and live again.
This drawing is just how I felt by the end of the weekend.
An old poem perfect for these moments I’m living with…
I remember what you told me
How I shouldn’t want this loneliness
But was it ever in me to be sweet?
To let them touch me? To let them kiss…
The bent rings of my disengagements
I am owned by my hatred
For all things you believe to be sacred
My rituals always went wrong
And you convinced me I don’t belong, so
I went away and thought I would be better off
For all the times I say
I don’t need love to be made whole
Welcoming the losses as they grow
Lifting me up from far below
I easily let go
I decided to write something that is both random and to the point. It describes stressful things, how stress feels, how it looks and what I imagine when I think of stress. It’s not meant to make perfect sense, but it’s all centered around this one thing.
Too many sunny days in a row
On and on dissatisfaction
Its widespread signature; the illness in my eyes
It is the scribble of those itchy red lines
A survivor and rarely a good thing
The caustic rain on my fresh painting
Inflamed hatred of a nightmare
Strangers walking by telling me to smile
It’s when the remedies don’t work; shot nerves
Instincts scratching at the walls
The rigid body language; superior vexation
Hangnails and blood I can’t ignore
When comfort begins to feel painful
Doves falling dead from the sky
It is success crumbling in chunks
Migraines trying to murder me
The vessels will rupture with my luck
Simply wishing that I’d never woken up