I painted in the darkest charcoal bits and lines joyfully, for they require no mixing, and it’s fun to be a bit dark sometimes. Then, since I had some charcoal on the brush, it was easier to get into the mix for the layers you see there. Even so, the problem remains that the core will need to be darker still. I should address it sooner rather than later. Tomorrow perhaps, or I’ll end up having to relayer lots and lots. Agh. How I love those initial sections. Alas. They must be dark. And I was just saying how fond I am of being dark at times. Heh.
For example, now that it is somewhat cooler, yet is still Summer, I can wear the BLACK sundress. This would never happen in another month of Summer for I disavow the darker colors as mindless in the heat, nay, foolhardy. But today, it’s great. I soak up the heat with bliss, knowing Autumn is coming, noting the greater abundance of fallen leaves and admiring the green ones still on the trees in wonder.
The reading for Constellation Books is set for Sunday, October 14, from 3-5 pm. Woo! We plan to videotape her, i.e., me, and send her off to the land of YouTube, so stay tuned. Jason said if it goes viral, who knows! Well, we can certainly hope for a good reading.
So yesterday I strained my back, no wonder, with the two bags full of Fall clothing that is too small for me, but lo, it is DATED, she said and lo, she gave me only the ten dollars for the Anthropologie chocolate lace shawl collar jacket. And she was done. Sigh. More than a sigh really. Harumph and a bit of shock, and she referred me to Tina’s on Muddy Branch in Gaithersburg where I’m headed this week. Shock, indeed, so I headed out with the two loaded bags and fortunately then the Federal Express man was headed to his truck and, shaking his head, said, I can’t see a LADY with two bags and not help her to her car. And I, shaking my head, said, You don’t know where my car is, and he said, I don’t care. I said, you didn’t even see my neck surgery scar, or my back MRI report from last week! I said laughing. He shook his head, and said, Now I know I’m doing the right thing.
You’re a saint, I told him.
So I was walking Chipper late afternoon and heard footsteps in the breezeway behind me. It was the Mormons. I told them I’m a Buddhist. They said, We meditate to talk to God. Is that what you do? I said I have disabilities and can’t stand and talk for long, I’ve got to go. We can walk with you. Okay, I said, I live over there. I gave them my artist card. They gave me the Mormon Temple card. That’s the best I can do, I said.
I feel kind of guilty, but my back was hurting. I mean, I adore spiritual dialogue. It did spark me to thinking. I meditate not to talk to God, though. I meditate not to hear voices, but for a quieter mind. I meditate to get to a more Godlike, peaceful state, to what I think God is, a beingness that I feel God is, to be more like God. Does that sound stuck up? I hope not.
Counseling went well before that, but it’s really too much to get into here, kind of too private even for me, really. Suffice it to say we’re watching me and this Prozac and this coming off the Abilify by 5 mg since June thing really carefully for the next week and a half. See, I was feeling so dissociated yesterday. Today I’ve been feeling adolescent, Eleven, she told me earlier, and feeling like I’m on all these vacations and honeymoons. It’s wierd. But at least I’m connecting with places and times I can relate to today. So that’s an improvement. And I feel downright perky today. That’s new. Heh. I’m laughing a lot at my own jokes again. Kind of annoying for Jason but it’s familiar. 🙂