Summer of 1998 and I was in the midst of some serious … mess … internally. I painted this over a month and all I could think was, I need them to know that I can still create something beautiful. Something orderly and clearly pure, sweet. For my mind was far, far from it, the beginning of the memories, you see, had come that March, 1998 and I was trying to hold myself together without medication. I was determined that I could do it. I was not ultimately. Six months, nine months? I think. Hell on Earth. This is what I base the dark side of my Buddhist yin/yang on, although I saw beautiful visions during that time, even beautiful, real REAL clouds outside. Spent a lot of time out in the garden in the Sun. So very sad, abuse, the effects on the soul.
I painted this one the way I painted Cloud, with clear patches of unaltered (read, no white added) pigment, then built up, layers and layers of chalk, pastel, watercolor mixed with pigment, watercolor pencil … a lovely, careful, delicate, ornate process. You must see this one in full light to appreciate the shades of blue and green.
Speaking of which, I have hazel eyes, and a Columbian poetess friend of mine in college would greet me and say, Oh, Amy, today your eyes are gray-green, or blue-green, or green … it was mysterious to me, and delightful, and surprising. I wondered what it meant, something I had no control over. I had always been fascinated with those silly mood rings, right? To find that I somehow had mood “eyes” — yipes! Freakin’ me out. But she was sweet. I don’t pay attention to it now. Heh.
Today was a total sick day. Must have worn myself out with the interview day yesterday because I was just … in bed sick today. No writer came out to play. Sadly. I hope to write tomorrow afternoon and Sunday, football Sunday. I did however write a thank you note to the buyer of Afternoon Tea and Wreck, realizing suddenly that the former looks great in black light. Haiti, Afternoon Tea, Neon Fruit and Conception all have the fluorescent paint in them for the black light funnage. Black light = fun.
In counseling we talked about why the hell I’m SOOOOO dissociated all the time now and there are numerous reasons, mostly physical-health-related, all this one thing after another with the health stuff. How I’m coping, etc. I’m just spinning, I told her. She said you’re going to be okay when you get over this cold. Just give it a little more time. Sigh.
I also told her of this nifty little idee I had about perhaps Voltaire (someone look this up?) using the Fool in one of his plays as an actual Genius for the King, i.e., more valuable to him than the Judges in the end. Well, he certainly does keep the fool close at hand. But don’t we all have a little double talk? a little back talk? do I look okay? feel okay? am I okay, really? does the Emperor have any clothes? heh. mirrors … talk amongst yourselves …