Maui Wave Progress III, Magical Thinking

The sky was a breeze, Cobalt Blue and Titanium White painted to Ray LaMontagne’s newest CD, I mean, really, a breeze, good flowing. I was reminded of cloud painting while painting the sea foam and may do some detailing there, not sure, but tried to mix up the colors there a bit by moving around the canvas, so parts of the foam are bright white and parts are a bit bluer or greener. I had some of the white treading down into the main space but went over it again with the Prussian Blue.

I pulled out an old favorite from my watercolor days, a half-inch angled acrylic brush, and things got quite expressive, I must say, like a whole new painting. So I’m sitting with it for a bit. Like a few hours, actually, I’m itching to get back to it but have a phone call and a call for artists and the week’s cooking and some work for a friend to do. Hmmm. Busy day.

So we got the sad news late on Friday that Borders was closing it’s doors. We went on Saturday to visit our new favorite place of late and it was jam-packed with folks scurrying for last-minute deals and none-too-few teary eyed employees, and who can blame them? There must have been a hundred people in line and they processed them swiftly, efficiently. We loaded up on Jazz, Ray LaMontagne, The Raconteurs, The Beatles, anything we could find, Kurt Elling, Talking Heads Fear of Music oh yah. And Buddha Standard Time, which I will be reading shortly, or shortly for me, that is, Amy Standard Time, two boxes of stationery, because I’m a firm believer in the handwritten note still, and a box of Secret Garden stamps which I gave away to a friend yesterday who needed them to play with more than I.

In counseling on Friday I asked my question from my journal about what pieces did I have to hold on to when I was so isolated and dissociated early on: and the answer was fairy tales. And of course I wanted to be the lost princesses. So there you are. And Tar Baby, Please don’t throw me in that Briar Patch, and Mogli in the Jungle Book. I identified with so many of the characters in stories and movies it is mindblowing. But there was my answer:  magical thinking. And there is my first novel, and my second, actually, and my third, for that matter. Hee.

So my new question for counseling tomorrow is about the deep pit of hollow emptiness that I continue to feel inside, since forever. I meditate for a sense of peace and joy and contentment and connectedness to LOVE and BLISS and have to keep recreating a sense of positivity. I mean today I am kind of pulsing with a sense of it, and believe me, I know it’s because the power went out and we almost lost our computer and I have a deep sense of gratitude because of it. But ordinarily I have to work really really hard to find it and keep it. Blah. The deep blah. And most of you who know me know that I seek the positive constantly. I’m a seeker in a good sort of way, for beauty and truth and justice, even in the worst situations. Not that I don’t get down and funked out and depressed. Ask Jason. But I turn it around in time and with help. Because I feel like it ought to have a happy ending.

My theory is because of what happened to me early on, that I don’t have that solid base of self-esteem to draw on all the time. You are LOVED. You are GOOD. It is OKAY. Instead, I’m always looking out for the bogey man, like, all the TIME. That’s another definition for PTSD, eh? Yeah.

Cooking for the week this afternoon should be lovely. Jason already did our London broil yesterday because we were both afraid I would overcook the meat, so I clipped some Rosemary from our garden and finely sliced five cloves of garlic for the marinade. YUM. Made the house smell amazing. We have four ears of corn, six zucchini, six tomatoes, peas, onions, garlic, lemons and fresh herbs in the garden again to play with. I’m very excited about the sensual experience and making the house smell good all over again.

Right, so the power went out for a good scary while last night. This morning at 5 or so when Jason left I got up and checked the computer and …. nothing but a white screen and lots of clicking from my trusty Apple mega tower precious life-giving all-important …. computer — called Jason … then the power went out again and came quickly back on again — tried the computer again — started up like the charm and gem that it is. I cannot tell you how blessed I feel. It is my life.

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About amyjacksoncc

I am a professional artist, writer and musician creating from my home studio. To view my artwork, visit http://www.amyjackson.cc
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