It was really hard to leave this one with her raw edges out there in the open, but war, any war, is not smoothed down and even, pretty, even the flowers … well, it is a metaphor. You see, ordinarily I try very hard not to leave any visible mark of my brush strokes on the surface of the canvases when I’m done, to leave perfect edges and lines, for the finer eye to note up close. Or details when you get up close. Here I have done some really therapeutic but in my mind, fine, heartfelt painting. I have shown within the painting my ability to paint smoothly and “finely” but have also, painted roughly, not as though I didn’t care, but as though an aggrieved person was painting, and I felt that. For that feeling, I lost some of the rawness of my own grief for that war, which is the point of this series for me. Progress in healing. 🙂
It is technically one of three screams I sketched in little one-inch sketches one on top of each other all at once one day. They represent the scream I cannot scream but deeply feel inside. I’m allowing three of them, for now.
This one, Four is a flower, Five, below is a bird-flower, and Six will be a jungle leaf/split atom. It’s nice to see it coming into being, and in its imperfection perfect …
I sketched this almost turtle-like like fish-like many-things like creature free-style with a pencil to avoid the charcoal tears in my paint this time. Tired of dealing with that, although it adds a level of intensity at times. Mixed a lot of this burnt orange special mix but only had just enough for a thin expressive rough coat. Still, expressive is prolly better than a perfect matte layer? how many perfect matte creatures are there? So there is a lot of detail for the up close viewer yet again, more finely and less raw-ly done than Four because the scream of the bird is sharper.
Love love loving where I live so very much but it is month to month and starts showing with the realtor this weekend so I’m like please don’t buy it, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Although I love it here so much, I did realize the other day that I do feel grounded again inside lately and that I can ground and be happy, “Under this one sky, my home” or something to that effect. Which was passed on to me by my dear friend Suji before I left Maryland, from a Native American she met in Santa Fe, when she asked him about his concept of home.
So I’m feeling more at home generally in the world, which helps. Yay.
Not quite sure what reality is. Or who is up really half the time.
I seem to be coping fairly well? Although I have had to miss and rescheduled twice for much-needed weekly counseling appointments, due to trouble with directions, Chipper care and the car failing on me the last time.
I have had new memories, last week, that I emailed to my counselor, for discussion tomorrow. It is hard to make decisions all month and all week, all day and night. I have a lot of push and pull and conflicting options, but largely I have just been doing what needs to be done, listening to my body’s needs for food and rest, Chipper’s needs all the time (which is a major responsibility) and trying to create and be social, get to my appointments and run errands functionally all month. I do get stressed out when I get lost or if I’m going the speed limit and people are aggressive but I’m doing my best.
My alters are nonstop, right? They are super-stimulated in this natural, tree-filled environment. So I have to make sure not to overdo …
I’m now wearing a right wrist brace of yore from suggestion by the doctor on Monday. Sports Med appt on 5/11. Overdid my right wrist and lower arm there.
Yoga mat needs a rug underneath for yoga to continue so hopefully my dear friend Dara will have saved one from years ago at her home tomorrow? fingers crossed! Missing the yoga so much but my mat on the wooden floor isn’t enough padding for my knees.
I’m not completely finished with the month, eh? and I’ve survived it with a lot of help from family and friends. I’m very blessed, as is Chipper. I look outside the window and all the leaves are almost in on all the tall trees down to the shrubberies. There are one or two fading points deep into the fair but small patch of forest to the front of the house, into which I regularly get lost and dream of painting …
I am living in the moment that the reality of month the month somewhat blessedly forces me to? knowing that as another dear friend says, I tend to land on my feet?