Working

I've been working.  I've been playing with some of the images I captured on Fall River Road last Monday.  Shadows and twigs...   bullet holes and rust.  These reflect how I'm feeling in a most pointed way.

I've created a life full of holes.  Perhaps in expressing them...  I can fill them.

There is an indigo rust that has crept in.  It isn't laziness...  it is depression of an idle sort.  It is lethargy and ice.  I wonder, sometimes, if this is how it feels to die in a mountain blizzard.  You read so often that, before one freezes to death, a person begins to feel comfortable and calm in spite of the cold.  Laughing in the face of death.  Not a loud, hysterical laugh, but a cool, low rumble.

Feeling warm at thirty below.  Growing content...  perhaps complacent...   with the sadness and anxiety that you alone have created.

Crying because there is something satisfying in seeing your mascara run.

Escapism

This is one of those days during which I simply want to hibernate under the quilts with my dog...  and perhaps a good book...   a book not requiring much independent thought...    a storybook, perhaps...  some grown-up fairytale.

It is rare for me to actually follow through on this impulse, however.  I may take a little nap...  or read a chapter of something simple...    but eventually guilt sets in and I'm up.  Today is no exception.  Though I wanted to stay in bed with Talula curled up in the curve of my fetal position, I was up by 8am, on the jobs lists by 8:30, and in the shower by 10.  I took Talula home (I was at Tom's, you see), picked up Melanie's address, sent her painting out at the post office, and headed to Stella's to work on the latest "pet project."

My friend Jill asked me to work on a portrait of her dog Wendell.  "Wendy" is a black Scottish terrier mix and the sketches are coming out quite...   cute.  I'm happy to have work.  I'm glad that people are excited about what I can do with paint.

But dogs?  Could someone please pay me to do something a little more...   inspiring?

I had coffee with a friend Saturday evening.  He said he would commission "my feelings," if only he weren't a poor teacher.  We laughed...   at me, mostly.  Why would I think that anyone would want to pay me to create something only I understand?  Who would honestly want to commission my emotions?

This set me in a small depression.  

I made a tweet this morning about wanting to paint something special for someone...  anyone...  and the only request I received?!  "You mean, you could do a giraffe?  They're my favs!"

Ugh.

Would someone please be my muse?  Someone who isn't currently obsessed with their pet or their animal spirit?  Tell me how you are feeling...   tell me your favorite things, your favorite colors and music...   and I'll paint YOU.

After Wendell and the giraffe...  I am going to do a series.  My friends.  Carolyn, Mel, Tom, you?  That will be the first set I will bring to Stella's to sell.

In truth, I need to focus on something/someone other than myself.  I need direction, outside inspiritation and guidance.  I don't want to paint what I feel right now...   grey and blue and winter...   not now.  I need to get out of my own head.  I need an escape from ME.

I've been slacking on my posts, yes.  I've also been slacking in the painting department.  Haven't started anything new since finishing Olive.  I've vowed to start something on Monday...  Would someone please give me an assignment?

Stacy and I plan to snow shoe tomorrow, but the weather seems to be stirring up a bit of trouble.  We are already under a winter storm watch and I've seen the clouds rolling in and the temps dropping all day.  It would be a huge disappointment for Stacy, but I must say...  I'd welcome the reprieve.  Tomorrow is the MSU vs. UConn game and, in spite of my typical lack of interest in all things sports, I would really like to watch this game with a beer or two in hand.  I love seeing the Spartans win!  It must be the Capricorn part of my soul.

The garden is progressing astonishingly well!  Sprouts so far:  Onion, basil, tomato, cucumber, squash, cantaloupe, lavender, brussels sprouts, kohlrabi, peppers, cabbage and watermelon!  Only a few herbs have yet to show their little green heads!  I sing to them every day and I can't wait to settle them into their bed in a few weeks.

Ah-ha!  My next painting will be of sprouts!  Something simple in browns, golds and greens.  Mmmm...

I began reading Conversations With God last night.  I've avoided it as I somehow assumed it was cheesy nonsense.  I am, however, pleasantly surprised.  Today I've been meditating on the possibility that God doesn't care what we do...   so much as HOW we do it.  The analogy in the book is this:  Does a mother care what game a child chooses to play, whether it is hopscotch or kick the can?  No.  The mother only cares that the child plays nicely, tries its best, etc.  I love that idea...  that I am a child released into God's backyard to play.  I can play whatever I choose.

It isn't what...  but how.