I have started and re-started this post 10 times now
To be honest, I’m getting a little frustrated with this whole thing, and I’m very tempted to just scrap this whole idea
Sometimes the first steps are the hardest
I picked up my paint brushes for the first time in months (months!) this week.It felt amazing yet awkward at the same time. I need to re-connect with them. I know they are still very much a part of my creative outlet and something I won’t be giving up anytime soon.
I’m baby-stepping my way back into them.
My metal work has become a whole new passion for me since I started taking classes. There isn’t a part of it I don’t like. From the sawing to the filing to the fire and bending the silver. It all gives me a funny sense of peace and excitement all at the same time. I lose track of time and everyone else in the class room. I focus on the up and down on of the saw blade as I cut into the metal. I watch the gleam of fire as the metal heats and I know I’ve annealed it enough. I file, till the metal is perfectly squared.
Its love people.
Nothing but love
I’ve noticed that my inner critic has a field day with me when I play with paint. Art journaling really brings him out. Fire and metal? Not so much. Oh I get insecure, but not in the same way. But that is all for another day.
So, why am I mentioning all of this?
Cause somewhere in all of that, things where a little off for me as well.
Work is not good. And no matter how many applications I send out. Nothing good is coming up. (rejection much?) My work drains me. Not because it’s hard work, but because the tension and level of crazy is high. We all act like scared wives, tip toeing about our very angry husband. So, I come home at night and don’t have the energy to art, or even interact with my family and friends. Forcing myself to stay awake till 9pm. Many nights not even making it till 830.
To my friends: I’m sorry I have been absent. I miss you! Even if I wasn’t here, you have never been out of my thoughts. We need some catch up time. This weekend good for you?
My father got very sick – and I can’t seem to think of a time where I wont hear my sister crying and screaming into the phone “tell me what do Amanda! Do I put him on life support or let him die?” And me saying the words “we let him go Kerri”
He is still with us! But he is sick. And not a -we-can-cure-him-with-bed-rest sick. A sick sick.
The stress has giving me nearly daily migraines. I’m stress eating again too if I’m honest. All my anxiety ticks are back. Sleep? Nope! Which is funny cause like I said, I’m going to bed at 830 at night.
I played sick yesterday and kept it to myself. I took some me time. I needed some breathing room. I needed to just sit with myself. I don’t know why I’m really saying all of this. I think part of me needs to get it out. I need to put it out there so that I can move past where I am.
I’m still have the same problems, but at least it feels like my perspective of it all has changed.