A wing of sorts developed, and I played with that, and intricacies beyond that. I’m also beginning to delineate more of the most major foliage in the foreground, which makes me very happy.
The butterscotch branches were done yesterday, with much delight.
More Sap Green was then added around them, and then I used a medium and bright Lime mix to play with the wing more.
It’s been really busy, planning my birthday celebration (shh!) and also writing my email update, finding my new therapeutic yoga person, filling out her forms, etc. I’ve also been cleaning lots, it seems, which I like, but my back, over the scars, will clench, the very inches of skin, and I have to stop and do yoga to get them to chill.
Also, I was thinking, who needs tattoos? Have you seen two four-inch lower back surgery scars? Cuteness! ha. They are fading, thankfully. Initially, I was in shock at how … bright red they were, but now they are pale pink to white, yay.
Still, pretty apparent, what they are.
I’m most grateful.
Last night one of the alters of an abuser came up and was me for about three minutes and scared me half to death, a female. Whoa. I was like, hey, Amy, if you are down there, any age at all, you can come up and take over, okay? And some of me did.
I kid you not.
Effing hell. I talked to the counselor about it today and she said good work, and look at your right hand stabilizer ring next time, the aquamarine. It reminds me of the sky. See.
Pretty scary stuff, not to feel yourself at all and … not be in control like that, thankfully I was in bed.
I’ve found lately that about bedtime the alters and flashbacks think it’s time to get up and move about. So I am kind of used? to it. Not.
But I at least know to expect it and put the IPod on.
Last night I was listening to Gaudi when the female abuser came up and it was tripped out and messed up and I survived the hell out of it.
That’s what I do.
Lest I seem too proud, and sigh.
It balances out. Right?
So I’m liking the painting.
I’ve found a good match for a therapeutic yoga specialist and looks like we’re set for her to come to our home early next week! I soooo need this; I’m really psyched about it. I can only imagine the tip of how cool this is to me, and how much it is going to change my life. You know? She is from Wicked Yoga. How cool is that? Here I’m all broken up physically and inside and some kick butt yoga lady comes and injects some wicked yoga into my life. It feels very empowering, not like I’m some old lady.
I turn fifty this year and I’m just saying, for those of you who have not nearly begun to reach this wicked age, hold on. You’ve heard the adage that old age isn’t for sissies, which I believe was coined by Bette Davis, or at least I love to imagine her, hands on her hips, classic black dress, red lips, pearls, perfect hair and makeup and of course, those eyes, saying that.
Well, it’s in part because of the achies, simply put. I’ve had this discussion with the lovely people I meet in the waiting rooms of doctor’s offices and such as I go along, which I love to do, and why not? If it’s not one thing, it’s another, speaking of body parts. Your hip, your ankle, your wrist, your neck, your shoulder, your elbow, your back. I tell you.
Perhaps I needn’t. Yoga yoga yoga.
Or whatever works for you, I suppose.
And you are as old as you feel. I totally believe that.
Have been totally enjoying many and all of the lines and images of Alberto Blanco’s poems lately. OMG. You should totally check him out. I have no idea why I had not heard of him before, and on par with Neruda, I tell you, perhaps not in quantity, but I’m just now checking him out. OMG. Almost finished with my little penny (ouch for him) book and will get more.
But will still need to get to my metaphysics lessons from Ortega y Gasset which I predict to blow my itty mind. I say itty because in many ways when it comes to philosophy and some/many things I am very simple/elegant?/simple. And that can be limiting or profound and I have not determined which. I discovered this in college when my friends were taking and arguing philosophy and I would overhear them and go get involved, making random statements, which they allowed to some extent, but which annoyed them simultaneously, and statements which were completely unrelated to The Republic or whatever they were discussing. Which I thought was hilarious and profound, a la meme.
That was when I realized how simple I thought the world was and should be, and when I began my earnest spiritual quest that ended in Buddhism some 20 years? later.
Now, perhaps a fellow Buddhist might say that she/he thinks that the world is not simple. But … the world is one. That is profound. Works for me; enormously simple and complex at the same time.
Oh hey, when my computer was in the shop I received a notice that I achieved Special Recognition for an older painting of mine that I entered into a Countryside online art competition which has now past. Sorry for the delay on this but below is the painting:
Well, you all, I’m pooped now. Heh. I need to get in the bed and chill my back and my mind/emotions out for a while for the rest of the day.
Tomorrow we will take Bryce Canyon II? to get her framed for entry into a competition for a show this Spring, so that is exciting …