Sit with that uncomfortable empty feeling as long as possible. Look deep into your heart & repeat ‘I see your pain & I respect your journey’. Stay in bed with a purring cat falling in love with the sound of your own breath. Be quiet & still as you accept the death of another great passion, be grateful for such a flame. Walk in the sunshine & dine alone. Eat luxuriously slow while reading deeply of those who inspire you. Drink tea with cream for comfort. Listen to friends tell you the positive things you have given them, but don’t feel compelled to hold on to them anymore dearly than the negative things. Let your mind breathe through the thoughts of tomorrow. Sit in the window & watch the snow fall. Don’t ask any questions yet. Order too much Indian food to eat in bed & pretend to be glamorous for an hour or so. Be patient & give new ideas the space they need to grow. There is no rush to be whole again. Emptiness invites inspiration.
Another list of things that have touched my heart like a spark plug to the thunder bolt.
- Maurice Sendak final interview and where the title of this list comes from
- Werner Herzog on Creativity, Self-Reliance, and How to Make a Living Doing What You Love via Brain Pickings
- Stephen Colbert telling the story of how he met his wife via the wonderful Paige Lansky
- The Machine by Joey Comeau
- Glitter by respectfulchild
I don’t want to make any more art about the things that have hurt me. Every piece I’m working on has some way tied into the experiences, people, stories, or places that have fucked me right up. Trying to make something beautiful & meaningful out of it to justify this feeling. Because I still believe it’s my responsibility to transform those thorns into a crown. It’s not. I don’t owe it to anyone. My sadness & pain are my own. Transforming them could be cathartic or it could be a way to keep me trapped in it. What would it look like to make art out of things that were already beautiful? Out of pieces of me that shine in the sunlight? What if I started with gold instead of straw? What could I weave then? I’m growing in a thousand ways that I don’t remember. I just want time to rest in the pieces of me that aren’t hurting. I feel like a fraud & a fake turning over a new leaf while these leaves are still green on the tree. Abandoning the project before transformation is complete. But I also recognize that I need to refuel. I’ve been joking about quitting to paint fruits & flowers. I think that might literally be what I do next. I’m taking a three month hiatus from all that is hard to only indulge the soft side of my art. Play music, play in film, play in paints & muck about. I have a few commitments that I will see through, but I’m shelving Dear Devotion for a time until after this sabbatical of gentleness. There are still a few more months left in this year of yin and I will indulge.
I’m not writing anymore Sunday lists. It was a fun experiment, but I’m going back to tracking progress on coach.me app.
I want to get back to writing regular content, but I also want to write things that are meaningful.
This is just not it.
- 2 hours Dear Devotion
- 1 hour practicing bass
- Lots of writing – personal & poetic.
- One rock concert (all dudes)
- Reading rupi kaur’s milk & honey 💖 also lots of blogs
- Spc fundraising meeting with Charlie
- Laundry & house cleaning
- Lots of lady time this week supporting each other & enjoying end of summer
- Very volatile mood swings this week. Tuesday evening into Wednesday morbidly depressed, Thursday elated to the point of difficulty concentrating, Friday morbidly depressed again with suicidal ideation. Sunday another high day, hopefully not as manic.
- Also started period this week possible connection to mood, definitely noticeable on sleep patterns & sex drive.
- Generalized anxiety about money & future continues. As tides with moods flux.
- 2 board meetings – one for SPC, one for SaskMusic
- Therapist appointment
- Rent due, other finances to take care of
- Start sober September
- Call for submissions for alt alt
- Start regular meditation practice again
I’m working on a solo piece that I, and I alone, am creating. Like a sculptor alone in the studio facing a great slab of shapeless rock holding a chisel in one hand and a vision of possibility in the other. I am both sculptor & rock. Discoverer & discovered. I am navigating my body & mind in a way that is almost completely foreign to me. Total autonomy. It’s daunting.
My body is my instrument.
From which all work emerges. All ideas are expressed. Storytelling is in my veins, sinews, synapses. I, the artist, must learn to work every angle, control every aperture, understand the mechanics to take it apart & rebuild it. As a director of self my only option is to observe passively with gentle exacting focus as the performance comes through me. Let refinement arise in the commitment to discovery within. Trust my impulses.
My mind is a double edged sword.
It has baracaded itself inside behind enemy lines over analyzing all the ways I intersect with the world. Impulses that used to feel natural suddenly appear forgin under endless scrutiny. Without specific tasks & complex problems to latch onto my mind occupies itself in the most awful ways. When the anxiety rises I can barely quell the shakes. It surges through me like lightening and lingers for days.
My heart has not healed.
There are memories stored in the muscles of my body that flinch when eyes linger there too long. Memories that tighten in my throat when certain songs play. Memories so heavy my bones ache with the weight of them on rainy days. My breath tries to balance the precipice between the world & I, but I’m still caught holding on to things I wish I could forget.
My presence is the piece.
I am terrified of loosing myself in the work. I struggle to be present in my body & mind while even still I try to clutch onto some shade of normalcy. I am not creating in spite of these challenges but because of them. I am not a blank slate waiting to be filled with inspiration, I am the spark itself. The combined force of chisel point, skilled labour, and unrealized potential hidden in plain sight. The scariest part is the idea of being seen as broken, unredeemable, vulnerable. Of being seen & being hurt again. Rather than running away though I practice radical vulnerability in the studio, but how can I leave this raw open energy in the studio when this piece is also my life’s work?
My perplexing problem.
- 2 hr Dear Devotion
- 1 hr bass practice
- Chaired board meeting for SPC
- Caught up with Tom & Tant per Tant
- Watched: Star Trek & Pokemon
- 3 music gigs (1/6 bands feat. Women)
- Mieka’s birthday – campfire jam
- Read Anatomy of Meloncholy and lots of blogs
- Therapist appointment
- Came down with cold kept me in bed a lot of weekend
- Anxiety about future feeling pressure to be a lot of things I’m not & go a bunch of places I can’t.
- Behind on housework due to illness weighing on me.
- 3 hrs Dear Devotion – sketch out plan moving forward
- Make up missed band practice
- Get new journals
- Start new book
- Prepare for board meeting
- Fundraising meeting
- Follow up on new mystery project
- Clean house
- Start writing