Here I’ve actually even taken a DIFFERENT angle on the canvas. What IS the world coming to, you might ask? Anyhoo, you can better see the itty red square at the tip of the lighter lime Sprout thataway. Finished the red Sprout today as well.
Soooo close to finishing this work I can taste it, and I am very ready to begin the next piece. Raowrrrrrhhhhh. Sigh. I love this painting, don’t get me wrong, but I’m ready to start the next piece, that’s all.
Woke at, I repeat WOKE, at ten to nine am this morning, and made it just fine to my 11 am appointment. Wow. I did my best not to stress out and just was aware of the time. Sadly it was pouring down raindrops (cue “raindrops raindrops” – Radiohead) this morning so we were limited and that kind of saved me.
Now it is super Sunny and Springish. Yes. We are loving it. Chipper can’t keep his head really OFF the ground and things. So much to sniff deeply apparently. Yes.
Read a great poem today about the loveliness of being by a poetess who passed in 1974. It rocked my itty world, right before counseling. Will most likely be putting into The Front Porch, and it’s long. Hmmmm. How?
Oh, this being business. Okay. So get this. Most people have individuated by like their 20s or at the latest their 30s? I’m not individuated yet and I’m 48. What?
So after counseling, still puzzled after our lengthy discussion, I emailed her about it, What is identity? Can I make one of those?
She answered, it is the definition of your yourself. Well, I have Dissociative Identity Disorder and I have many selves to list there. So I will wait on that one. It’s quite unsettling when I mention this to the inside, to the alters. Who’s first, for example, is a question they ask? No pushing. A smattering of hands are raised to volunteer.
Jason said, You have a core.
I shuddered suddenly at this. I said I have been damaged to the core many times and this makes me shake all over. I can be strong when I have to be, but I don’t stay there.
I ask her, What is the structure, what are the components of identity?
Waiting for an email back. I want to Google but will wait. And meditate, in fact I think the Buddhists have already pondered this one.
I’m pooped. Jason is, too. We think we have a cold. Maybe it’s the end of Winter.