As more and more aspects of my life spiral out of control, and more and more people I care about decide they don't want me in their lives, I don't know what to do.
I don't understand why this is happening.
Unfortunately, or fortunately, the drugs seem to be working, and I am not falling into depression. I'm sleeping, and functioning, but it seems to be worse than the depression. At least that dulled all my feelings, so I didn't end up feeling quite so awful about things I couldn't control. I was so focused on my own pain and my internal issues that I didn't even notice when others had problems with me. And now that I do, I don't know how to cope with it, or what to do to fix anything.
I've screwed things up with Danielle, and Friedman, and Elias, and Jason, and I've massively neglected pretty much everyone else. And I'm just left with fear. If I do nothing, it'll just keep getting worse, but I don't know what to do to fix anything, and I don't even have anyone left to ask, so I am just waiting, hoping for a thought that will tell me how to proceed so I don't make things worse.
Halfway up a sheer cliff, I looked down. And I saw how far the ground was, how cold and hard and unforgiving it will be when I plummet. Suddenly, every muscle is frozen, and tired, and threatening to cramp. My calves are burning, as are my icy fingers, and my feet are twitching. My mind shrieks for me to keep climbing. But there are no more hand holds I can see, and the ones I cling to are crumbling. I press my face to the rock and try to remember how to breathe through the feeling that the bottom has dropped out of my stomach, my feet, my life. And above me I hear calls of encouragement, tinted with impatience. And I know that if they all reached the top successfully, there must be grooves for my fingers, jutting pieces of rock that will support my toes, but I still don't see them. I breathe and wish for solid ground, or at least a belay line. I am not meant to climb cliffs. And I am equally sure that if I remain paralyzed here, my body will fail me and I will fall, and that if I try to climb, I will miss my grip and fall. So falling seems to be the only option. I press closer to the rocks and pray to a deity I didn't believe in at the base of the cliff.
I can't help but wonder, as the wind tugs my fingers and buffets hair into my eyes, if there is a third option. The toe holds I climbed up from have vanished also, so I cannot go down, and try to get around. If my life were a novel, I could just push off from the cliff and soar, and the wind would support me. But even if I could, those at the top wouldn't accept it. And I don't think it's an option. I'd have to do it fully, completely trusting that I'd miss the ground, but I don't have that kind of faith. I'm much too aware of how far the ground is, and of my own frailty. If the cliff is some sort of metaphor for recovery, shouldn't it get easier as I get higher? It doesn't. I cling to the sheer wall, wondering how many of them actually climbed the cliff unaided, and wait as the blood drains from icy fingers clenched into sharp stone, wait for the inevitable fall.
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Remember the Alamo?
An unfocused and unproductive week.
Well, except that I finished the hat I was knitting and started a new one.
But enough about that- today, I am reminded that the internet is a magical place.
Two things to share:
1. I want an LED tattoo. So fucking awesome. I really think step two would be to make it touch sensitive, so you could draw on your body with your finger and have it show the strokes (or on someone else's body, even better). Like the best body paint EVER. I want. Make this. Make it cheap, and make it safe and make it now.
2. Glen Beck is a rodeo clown. But a rodeo clown with a good point: "Will anyone look at these issues instead of looking at my past? We will continue to fight this, you and me together, you and me and quite frankly, Fox News, the Alamo for truth!"
Yes. Fox News is the Alamo for truth. Where it is brutally massacred, so people with no sense of history can use it incorrectly later. Well put.
In other news, I will never understand men. Anyone with an explanation is more than welcome to try, but I really think they're all just either completely mad or incurably stupid. Or maybe I am. Because more and more of them keep being added to the "he's being weird and I don't know why" pile.
Well, except that I finished the hat I was knitting and started a new one.
But enough about that- today, I am reminded that the internet is a magical place.
Two things to share:
1. I want an LED tattoo. So fucking awesome. I really think step two would be to make it touch sensitive, so you could draw on your body with your finger and have it show the strokes (or on someone else's body, even better). Like the best body paint EVER. I want. Make this. Make it cheap, and make it safe and make it now.
2. Glen Beck is a rodeo clown. But a rodeo clown with a good point: "Will anyone look at these issues instead of looking at my past? We will continue to fight this, you and me together, you and me and quite frankly, Fox News, the Alamo for truth!"
Yes. Fox News is the Alamo for truth. Where it is brutally massacred, so people with no sense of history can use it incorrectly later. Well put.
In other news, I will never understand men. Anyone with an explanation is more than welcome to try, but I really think they're all just either completely mad or incurably stupid. Or maybe I am. Because more and more of them keep being added to the "he's being weird and I don't know why" pile.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Thursday, November 12, 2009
I Will
Will is the best word. Almost as good as Hat. Which is my word.
I am a moose. A Moose in a Hat....
Anyway. Will. Will is both the word that says, yes, I'm going to do or be or achieve whatever it might be, and the way you do that. I Will, because I Will it to be so, Through Will (the force) I will (the action).
Such a good word.
I will be bold. I WILL.
I will be me. I will stop being afraid of what others might think. I will wear what I want, I will make the art I want, and if you don't like it, that is not my problem. It is not my fault.
This would be easier to accomplish if I weren't going to see my grandparents tomorrow. My mom's reactions are likely to be difficult enough. I know they're not going to stop loving me if I wear a tutu, but they want explanations. Why did you dye your hair purple? Why are you wearing that? Why don't you get a job and be normal?
Because I want to. Because I can. Because I have tried to be the person you want me to be for long enough, and that isn't who I am. And it's not making me happy.
Perhaps because I have been letting them get their way for so long, it is harder to break free. Most off my friends stopped doing things because they were "supposed to" gradually, over years, starting in middle and high school. I am doing it more abruptly, and later. And it's hard. But I have to. For me. I Will.
If everyone did this, we would all stop trying to make other people who we think they should be, and let them be who they are.
I am a moose. A Moose in a Hat....
Anyway. Will. Will is both the word that says, yes, I'm going to do or be or achieve whatever it might be, and the way you do that. I Will, because I Will it to be so, Through Will (the force) I will (the action).
Such a good word.
I will be bold. I WILL.
I will be me. I will stop being afraid of what others might think. I will wear what I want, I will make the art I want, and if you don't like it, that is not my problem. It is not my fault.
This would be easier to accomplish if I weren't going to see my grandparents tomorrow. My mom's reactions are likely to be difficult enough. I know they're not going to stop loving me if I wear a tutu, but they want explanations. Why did you dye your hair purple? Why are you wearing that? Why don't you get a job and be normal?
Because I want to. Because I can. Because I have tried to be the person you want me to be for long enough, and that isn't who I am. And it's not making me happy.
Perhaps because I have been letting them get their way for so long, it is harder to break free. Most off my friends stopped doing things because they were "supposed to" gradually, over years, starting in middle and high school. I am doing it more abruptly, and later. And it's hard. But I have to. For me. I Will.
If everyone did this, we would all stop trying to make other people who we think they should be, and let them be who they are.
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Worse Things have happened
Today I went to the Met. Which I was too ansty for, I couldn't focus on the art and when I tried to sketch in the Greek and Roman galeries, I discovered 2 things that prevented me from doing much. 1) the benches are all facing the backs of the pieces or at awkward angles and 2) there are an awful lot of people in the Met at 2:30 on a Tuesday afternoon. Doesn't anyone work? In the right art mindset neither of these would be a problem. In the Louve, I crouched on the floor in corners until my legs gave out and I fell over because I'd gone numb from too many sketches of too many pieces. Today, I managed a very brief 10 minute sketch of a marble statue of Venus. And that was it.
I did, however, discover the "study room" above the gallery which is filled with crowded glass cases roughly sorted of pottery, statues, jewelery and whatever other bits and pieces they had. And I do mean roughly sorted: each case contains probably a hundred various objects, and is simply marked "Crete: Bronze Age" or "Horses in Imperial Rome". I'm making the specific titles up, but you get the idea. This room was mostly empty, and had what I think of as that "Brittish Museum feeling". Now, I have never been to the Brittish Museum, so I have no clue why I think this, but it's when you're in a space that feels amazing, holy almost, in that you can feel the palpable energy of the history or art or whatever. Most spaces that should have this feeling (such as the Acropolis) have been trampled and filled with tourists, so the eons of emotion and worship have been crushed and can no longer be felt.
This is one of the saddest things in our world.
Mostly, I tell myself that worse things have happened, which Danielle wrote a beautiful post about today, quoting from The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy, on (amongst other things) the idea that Worse Things Have Happened. This is an idea that both saves me and gets me into trouble. No matter what is happening, I might reply "worse things have happened" - which could mean "I've survived worse, so I'm not afraid" but could equally be -not sarcastic exactly- but somewhat tounge in cheek "Is that supposed to worry me? It actually sounds kinda good."
I use the first way much more. To remind myself that nothing thus far has proven stronger than I am, so while this might suck, it too is temporary and I can survive it too. Because I'm quite durable. I'm tired, but who isn't?
However, when it comes to a few things, like the way our world has become so comercial and fake, I lose perspective. Worse things have happened, like genocide. But its all so tangle together at this point. When I sit on the subway, and some guy panhandles by singing the song he wrote for Jesus and everyone carefully ignores him, I turn up my ipod too. And I watch as no one looks at him or each other, at a city full of people pretending to be alone in crowded cars where every lurch presses you against a stranger. And I know why we can distroy so much for "comfort" and the all-important "convenience". Because it is a culture of self-absorption. Of loud voices and disregard for history and beauty. And I am certainly an offender. And I wish I could stop. But I know tomorrow, I'll be back to my desire to consume. Hell, I spent too much money today (art supplies and candles) and we all know I'm not going to undergo a radical personality shift and give up the soda and chocolate and junk food or the loud, sarcastic commentary or my ipod or cell phone or laptop. But as a society, we must do something. Because how can this culture leave anything but hollowed-out, brittle, self-absorbed shells where people are supposed to be?
And now I'm thouroughly depressed.
I did, however, discover the "study room" above the gallery which is filled with crowded glass cases roughly sorted of pottery, statues, jewelery and whatever other bits and pieces they had. And I do mean roughly sorted: each case contains probably a hundred various objects, and is simply marked "Crete: Bronze Age" or "Horses in Imperial Rome". I'm making the specific titles up, but you get the idea. This room was mostly empty, and had what I think of as that "Brittish Museum feeling". Now, I have never been to the Brittish Museum, so I have no clue why I think this, but it's when you're in a space that feels amazing, holy almost, in that you can feel the palpable energy of the history or art or whatever. Most spaces that should have this feeling (such as the Acropolis) have been trampled and filled with tourists, so the eons of emotion and worship have been crushed and can no longer be felt.
This is one of the saddest things in our world.
Mostly, I tell myself that worse things have happened, which Danielle wrote a beautiful post about today, quoting from The God of Small Things by Arundhati Roy, on (amongst other things) the idea that Worse Things Have Happened. This is an idea that both saves me and gets me into trouble. No matter what is happening, I might reply "worse things have happened" - which could mean "I've survived worse, so I'm not afraid" but could equally be -not sarcastic exactly- but somewhat tounge in cheek "Is that supposed to worry me? It actually sounds kinda good."
I use the first way much more. To remind myself that nothing thus far has proven stronger than I am, so while this might suck, it too is temporary and I can survive it too. Because I'm quite durable. I'm tired, but who isn't?
However, when it comes to a few things, like the way our world has become so comercial and fake, I lose perspective. Worse things have happened, like genocide. But its all so tangle together at this point. When I sit on the subway, and some guy panhandles by singing the song he wrote for Jesus and everyone carefully ignores him, I turn up my ipod too. And I watch as no one looks at him or each other, at a city full of people pretending to be alone in crowded cars where every lurch presses you against a stranger. And I know why we can distroy so much for "comfort" and the all-important "convenience". Because it is a culture of self-absorption. Of loud voices and disregard for history and beauty. And I am certainly an offender. And I wish I could stop. But I know tomorrow, I'll be back to my desire to consume. Hell, I spent too much money today (art supplies and candles) and we all know I'm not going to undergo a radical personality shift and give up the soda and chocolate and junk food or the loud, sarcastic commentary or my ipod or cell phone or laptop. But as a society, we must do something. Because how can this culture leave anything but hollowed-out, brittle, self-absorbed shells where people are supposed to be?
And now I'm thouroughly depressed.
Monday, November 9, 2009
Moving
No, not where I live. As previously mentioned, I have no money or job or prospects for either, and until those things materialize I will continue to live with my mom, who is very kindly supporting my foray into insanity. Which is very kind of her, and also crucially important both to my financial situation so I can have time to make art and to my emotional health so that I can feel ok about doing so (it's really important for me to feel supported by someone, that this isn't a completely insane thing for me to be doing, even if that person is my mom, and the love and support is more or less unconditional and not based solely on artistic merit).
I am, however, thinking of moving to a new blog address and (having now just signed up for accounts on etsy and youtube) trying my hand at making some videos and selling my art. Because I need to stop sitting around, thinking I'm just as good as these other people, and why do they have huge followings and I don't, and get out there and try. Trying is, at least for the moment, just as important (if not more important) than succeeding.
Unfortunately, this plan is slightly more challenging due to the fact that I don't really have the necessary technology. Sure, I have a digital camera, and it takes video, but it's quite crappy, and so my pictures of my art don't really do them any justice. Also, I only have a 1gb card, so who knows how much video I can capture? Probably not much... well, t says 12 minutes, but I have about 30 pics on it at the moment. Maybe my brother will let my borrow his nice camera or Friedman will, or something, and I'm thinking about asking for a video camera for Christmas or something. We'll see.
I am, however, thinking of moving to a new blog address and (having now just signed up for accounts on etsy and youtube) trying my hand at making some videos and selling my art. Because I need to stop sitting around, thinking I'm just as good as these other people, and why do they have huge followings and I don't, and get out there and try. Trying is, at least for the moment, just as important (if not more important) than succeeding.
Unfortunately, this plan is slightly more challenging due to the fact that I don't really have the necessary technology. Sure, I have a digital camera, and it takes video, but it's quite crappy, and so my pictures of my art don't really do them any justice. Also, I only have a 1gb card, so who knows how much video I can capture? Probably not much... well, t says 12 minutes, but I have about 30 pics on it at the moment. Maybe my brother will let my borrow his nice camera or Friedman will, or something, and I'm thinking about asking for a video camera for Christmas or something. We'll see.
Process Story
In politics, the last thing you want is for the press to write a process story. You want them to write about the issue, not about how the government is working.
But I like process, it fascinates me.
I always want to know what people are thinking. how they're doing stuff, and why.
So my art process is all about stopping that.
Stop thinking, just do.
I try to stop worrying about how each piece is going to end up, and focus on making it.
And if I don't think about what I'm doing, that is, I shut off the nasty voice inside my head that paralyzes me with a thousand questions (what is this piece going to say about me? how will it make the viewer feel? what does it mean? will anyone like it? is it worth doing?). Sometimes then I make art that is "good" whatever that means. Mostly I tell myself that all that "good" means is that I like it, either because its beautiful, or it makes me feel something or it effectively communicates my point of view. But I still don't know if anyone else will feel that way, and the only way I can know that is to show it to other people. Which is terrifying.
I have to get over that. I tell myself that if just one person buys just one piece of my art, then it'll feel better. I won't have to be afraid anymore. But I'm sure that that isn't true, that no matter how many other people like my art, or even buy it, I'll still be afraid that every piece isn't good enough. In fact it'll only add more pressure. Because every piece is a risk, each time I make art I am putting myself out there, letting people into my brain, and if they don't like it, then I must not be any good, and I should stop now.
Which is why I don't try to sell my art. But that's silly.
Everyone doesn't have to like your art for it to be worthwhile. And as long as I learned something, or enjoyed making it, or like the result, then it is "good", and I should keep doing it.
And you should too. When did we decide that all that mattered was results, measured solely in other people's opinions and willingness to spend money? What messed up cultural idea made us think that was how we should measure the "value" of our art, and of ourselves?
I refuse to play that game anymore. I will create what I want to create, and I will try to sell it. And maybe someone will like it too, and buy some. And maybe they won't. But how can I know unless I try?
But I like process, it fascinates me.
I always want to know what people are thinking. how they're doing stuff, and why.
So my art process is all about stopping that.
Stop thinking, just do.
I try to stop worrying about how each piece is going to end up, and focus on making it.
And if I don't think about what I'm doing, that is, I shut off the nasty voice inside my head that paralyzes me with a thousand questions (what is this piece going to say about me? how will it make the viewer feel? what does it mean? will anyone like it? is it worth doing?). Sometimes then I make art that is "good" whatever that means. Mostly I tell myself that all that "good" means is that I like it, either because its beautiful, or it makes me feel something or it effectively communicates my point of view. But I still don't know if anyone else will feel that way, and the only way I can know that is to show it to other people. Which is terrifying.
I have to get over that. I tell myself that if just one person buys just one piece of my art, then it'll feel better. I won't have to be afraid anymore. But I'm sure that that isn't true, that no matter how many other people like my art, or even buy it, I'll still be afraid that every piece isn't good enough. In fact it'll only add more pressure. Because every piece is a risk, each time I make art I am putting myself out there, letting people into my brain, and if they don't like it, then I must not be any good, and I should stop now.
Which is why I don't try to sell my art. But that's silly.
Everyone doesn't have to like your art for it to be worthwhile. And as long as I learned something, or enjoyed making it, or like the result, then it is "good", and I should keep doing it.
And you should too. When did we decide that all that mattered was results, measured solely in other people's opinions and willingness to spend money? What messed up cultural idea made us think that was how we should measure the "value" of our art, and of ourselves?
I refuse to play that game anymore. I will create what I want to create, and I will try to sell it. And maybe someone will like it too, and buy some. And maybe they won't. But how can I know unless I try?
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