Art is a car, apparently

well, I said I'd report back, it was far more challenging and left me reeling. I was thankful to have friends there. A couple of contributing factors: the presence of a former therapist, the words of other artists which left me feeling disappointed and incensed at their shallowness (my judgment) and resistance to acknowledging their place of privilege their racism. It was such a white room, although a good turn  out. I liked what I said, mostly. I felt very raw throughout and I did speak far too long oh well.

Art is an amazing vehicle for expression what words cannot even begin to capture.

Acknowledging my Anxiety

I'm feeling so nervous, I can feel my belly churning. I am going to be in a panel art talk this afternoon. I enjoy public speaking I miss it in part as it is purely performance for me, perhaps thinking of it in this way removes me to a safe distance, I think so, reduces my anxiety, as does the writing I do now. When I have not acknowledged my anxiety in a concrete way it has more power over my choices, I am more apt to say things from a place ruled by my insecurities rather than from a deeper, calmer place, where I am better able to listen, to pace my words and actions. I am excited about this opportunity to speak about my art; to speak to its strengths and limitations. I hope to be courageous in my words and actions, to speak of what I know which is only me and no one else. Everything is subjective, and my art is me on display, which is an act of courage too.
I want to assert myself, not interrupt others. I hope I speak words that are meaningful. I hope I challenge what is suitable to challenge, with grace and respect. This feels like an important opportunity for me. I'll report back.

ok what am I grateful for today?

My husband who makes me feel better with his hugs. my dog who sometimes seem to like me. he's soft and fluffy, I love his coat.

I love the sun and wind and waves and mountains that were so clear today.

I am please I sent in a proposal today to Gallery Gachet!

A starter list of gratitude

I ask that sadness, guilt, shame, self-hatred and anger leave my body.

Thank you to my brain for making serotonin and dopamine.
I thank my brain for helping me survive.

I am grateful for my husband, for shelter, for my dog, for clothing, for food, for air, for where I live, for the trees and the water. I am grateful for birds, I am grateful for seals and sea lions. I am grateful for music.

I am grateful for kind people. I am grateful for my friends. I am grateful for feeling loved. I am grateful for laughter, for moments of shared hilarity.
I am grateful for this space to write these thoughts down.

With this of all things

being sad is past tiresome. It's a new year, but really it's just a different day. It's only an agreed upon frame of reference. I feel like I am waiting but I am only waiting for myself to show up, there will be no miracle, no one will come to save me if I cannot do it for myself. It's a horrible feeling that I cannot find any spark, I think I only have them as I rub off on others, I suppose that is fitting. Wood, metals, they emit energy when struck together. balloons and materials emit smaller sparks as electrical energy. Being alone I struggle to expend my own energy, but I fear being with others, no one knows the fear, I prefer to stay in hiding, to sit with my envy, my sadness, my remorse, my disappointment. I am living in fear of being alive. My courage escapes me, it is dwarfed by my sadness. It is said first mourn then work for change, but I can't seem to stop mourning. I sometimes work through the tears but it gets hard and my tears need their expression this much I know because they persist so mightily.With this of all things I would that I was finished.

Trying to buck up

Wishing I felt happier.
Wishing I could experience joy.

But then it never seems ok to wish for these things when:

I never go hungry
I have a roof over my head
A man who loves me
A family who say they love me
A dog who bites me less every day
An income

so  I try to buck up
but instead feel a fuck up

washed out

pain
in a hole a deep one
pain I'm alive
I guess
some say I'll be missed
for all they call me
i'm already missing
heartaches for want of feeling loved

want to be worthy of this life
want to do something worthy in this life
not this beigeness
this dull numbness that washes everything out
not this in between slashed with agony
not this