Vietnam Jungle VIII – II

DSC_5184today it was the peach chiffon and a grey long-sleeve tee shirt for our birthday celebration for Arlene, Jason’s Mom with his family, at Aroma, the Indian restaurant in Shirlington, which is quite the hub for families and dogs of all kinds to pet and rub — it was lovely

although I’ve been most achey physically? hmm

a beautiful almost chilly day? but still all the trees are leaving out lime and the most indescribable browns and pinks and the Dogwoods even along George Washington Parkway, breathtaking — beyond belief really so surreal — a dream of life for a painter —

it’s like fellow artist alike have said so often now — I want to paint! when we’ve gone to shows or out in Nature — a common feeling

so here I am staying up late, past bedtime, alas, painting and then to read, for my copy of Flannery: A Life of Flannery O’Connor has arrived yesterday even — and I’ve decided yes, I can read more than one book at once — as I did have at least thirteen at one time in junior year, open for studies strewn about the room, to my roommates grand dismay — i must say — just don’t close them, I would say —

I would flit among them — everything is relevant — that’s the thing — reading the I Ching madly and throwing almost constantly — silly me at the time — agh

for it buoyed me at the time as nothing else did

some other voice to say maybe this or that from another older time

DSC_5185how I gaze at these titles, dears — and read them from the outside — having read them already — hmmm

some of the very dear books I have left

DSC_5187

and just now the brush to wash to finish painting for the day and begin reading from Meditation for the Love of It, and the new biography, for I dare not start the short stories until I’ve finished the Meditation book, yes?

I painted with a two green one hit of black mix to the three stems at left, then all black to the rest of the stems. Then there is one petal in the lower right that is mixed black and pink? Kind of a fiery tongue … then more red petals abounding, quite fun as always to paint in reds, so luscious. Oh, my.

We also this afternoon attempted a vocal for Johnny Appleseed. We did receive a phone call, for necessary info for another song, whether or not it was okay to add Buddhist chanting to it, if we can get that, btw, and it is. Cool, but that kind of threw us off.

It turned into a scratch vocal, and a terrifying guilt trip for me. See I warmed up, and was just so fraught about doing it right, and even so, still, wasn’t fully PRESENT for the experience of the thing. That just ain’t right. How can that be? Because I dissociate. It’s also akin to painting. Like ballet, like singing, eh? I mean, you’ve got to be on the note, firm on the stroke of the paint, aware of how much paint you’re using, but give it something, watch what you’re doing, not overdo, you know? I mean, I have a tendency to sound too perfect I think, like a frickin’ choir girl, because I sang in the frickin’ choir, right? for a longgg time. I did.

So who wants to sing Joe Strummer like that? So I was wary, but wanting to sound like a girl, like me, because I cannot sound like Joe Strummer, I can’t put that ON, right? but I want to be real to be true, to the song, right? and I wasn’t — after all that effort. I felt awful.

It’s like a role. It’s like acting. But it’s more serious than that. It’s real. It’s not acting. This is for the bees, for civil rights, for the very soul of us. That’s how important it is to me. For Joe Strummer. It’s very serious to me. I dissociate when I feel. When I get impassioned, and while I was singing I was thinking, I feel impassioned, that’s good, right?

Bah. So, I talked to Jason and he said, I hear fear. We’ll just keep doing it until we get it right, We have all kinds of time on this.

And then he said something about ice cream. Which blew me away. What?

Lighten up, he said.

Oh. Ha.

I said, though, this is me, talking about my art, this is you and me in production, but I get what you’re saying. I can be too frickin’ serious about things and fall on my ass. Ice cream.

So we’ll try again tomorrow. And tomorrow. We may just nail it tomorrow. Who can say? My blood races at the thought.

Now I’ve got this urge to curl up to a book or two and read. Where this reading bug has been, I don’t know but there you have it. 🙂 Far from blood racing, the Meditation and the Flannery O’Connor. Or are they? Hee. You decide.

 

 

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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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