it's all a lie

i keep waiting for the world to discover that it's all a lie. i'm really not an artist. who do i think i am putting myself in the same category as Botticelli or Grant Wood. i can't draw like MC Escher and i can't paint like DaVinci. i published a book too but i'm no JK Rowling.

neurotic? yes. people around here tell me all the time- "Well, you're the expert..."

i'm not!

i'm just this person who has a bunch on knowledge inside her head cuz i like to learn and i read a lot.

i'm just this person who likes to make things with her hands.

i'm just this person who HAS to create or else she'd disappear.

the bucket list-

have you seen this movie? The Bucket List is about two terminally ill men who escape from a cancer ward and head off on a road trip with a wish list of to-dos before they die.

i think we spend so much time being so busy NOT living in the moment that we put off too much in the someday list...

....someday I'm going to....

and then someday gets here and we have run out of time.

so what's on your bucket list? what if you made it your "in the moment list" and tried to do at least one thing on your list in the next 3-6 months?

i know what i want to do before i die-and i mean right before i die-i want to be holding the hand of the one i love beneath the Aurora Borealis ...there are so many myths about this wonderful natural phenomenon the one i like best is this one from the Algonquin Indians. They believed that Nanahbozho the Creator, after he finished creating the earth, travelled to the far north, where he still builds great fires which reflect southward, to remind those he created of his lasting love...

...sometimes I think my head is so big because it is so full of dreams....

i saw "The Elephant Man" onstage years ago. that one line has been with me ever since because i am so full of dreams and ideas that at times i feel there isn't room for them all. sometimes i can get one of those ideas pinned down and actually do something with it. i beat myself up at other times because i can't seem to get any ideas out of my head and into my hands. is it part of being depressed? or is it just my real personality? some of my ideas are so out there i am not brave enough to do anything with them because i am afraid people will think i am really weird or scary.

have you ever seen that poster with the list of famous people with mental illness? It says people with mental illnesses enrich our lives vincent van gogh , charles dickens and leo tolstoy are on that list as are  beethoven and michelangelo...

so where do i fit in? i'm a tiny speck in a big universe with a head full of dreams trying to get them all out....

i can understand...

...but i can't. big news around here the past week was a woman who went missing. she was found today and had apparently committed suicide. i know i have talked about depression and maybe even come across as a bit whiny at times.  i can't begin to know what her triggers were or even the thought process that went through her mind as she took her own life and left behind two teen aged daughters, a boyfriend and close family.. but...to be honest i can put myself in her shoes because i have had thoughts of ending it before.

i am not a stranger to death. i have known death first hand and personally since i was 7 years old. my youngest sister died- that was the first funeral i attended. i observed my parents pain and sadness at the loss of their one month old child- my sister. by the time i was 29 years old i had attended 4 more funerals- my older brother, my grandfather, my grandmother and my father. by the time i was 40 the total had grown to 9- my husband's aunt who was like a second grandmother to my children, my mother in law, father in law and my own mother.  these people were all very close to me.

so it really doesn't matter- suicide, natural causes, accident or terminal illness. death is hardest on those left behind. and even when you're prepared for it you really aren't. and even though you had time to say goodbye you still feel lost and abandoned at times. the death of someone is not something you get over- you get through it. you can go for days, weeks, months at a time and be just fine and then something will happen- it might be a song you hear or a smell or the shade of blue the sky happens to be that day. you'll remember and think about the person who died and all that grief comes pouring out of you again. time heals the physical wounds and the scars will fade. the scars on your heart never completely heal because love never stops. love is the reason i'm still here. i love the people i would be leaving behind too much to cause them so much pain- their pain would be far greater than my pain -real or imagined.

sabatoge

why is that when things seem to be going right i feel that something is wrong? i should be on top of the world right now, well not maybe to the pinnacle but pretty high up there. i have taken my struggling business and turned it around to where i am actually making money and i am doing what i love- teaching art to kids!

there are many times when i am my own worst enemy. i sabotage my success. Freud would have a field day with me on that one. i want to be successful and can even see myself successful ... take diet and exercise for an example. i am not happy with how much weight i have put on. i avoid mirrors and i dress to hide the weight. i know what i need to do i just can't do it. i have talked about this before and still i can't seem to find the right "thing" for me. i'm 49 years old and i plan on living to be 103 at least- i'd better get it figured out soon because middle age will be here in 2 and a half years....

so tonight, instead of reading in bed for awhile i am going to take my kindle and put the font size to this big and i will walk on that stupid treadmill  that i stub my toe on at least once a week  for at least 20 minutes. i'll let you know how it goes...and if it continues to go or if i sabatoge myself like i have done so many times before.....

ps. is it ok to walk barefoot on a treadmill? you see i really hate shoes

...it all makes sense now

growing up my mother was very taken with a painting by Edward Hopper. the title was "rooms by the sea"

i will admit when i was younger i didn't see the fascination for the painting, in fact i found it to be disturbing in a non threatening way. why is the ocean right outside the door? why does it look like there is nothing alive in this space? our public library had a program at the time where you could borrow framed pieces for your wall for a nominal fee. i think "rooms by the sea" spent more time on our living room wall than it did anywhere else. mom was so taken with the picture that my dad had a copy of it painted on canvas and framed for her for christmas one year. when mom died she left the painting to my brother.

 mom's been gone nine years now and i bought her house from her estate because i needed a home. right away i changed things so it wouldn't look like my mother's house. nothing huge because i was not a handy person and did not have the money being newly divorced but still i changed enough.

fast forward to a couple of weeks ago-my son and i were shopping together and he wandered over to the poster section.when i found him he was carrying this large print of "rooms by the sea". i was surprised by it. he told me we had to buy it because it belonged in the living room. you see it had always hung in the living room of nan's house and he loved the painting. he couldn't tell me why he liked it he just did and he really wanted me to buy it.

so i did. and it is hanging in the living room and it looks perfect. in fact it looks like i painted the living room just for that picture. now when i look at the piece i see a calm, quiet room with warm sunshine spilling in. i can imagine curling up on the red couch in the sun reading a book with the ocean outside my window to keep my company. it's a good place and i think now i understand why it spoke to her.

august

august has a feeling all its own. it's not june with all the promise of endless summer and its not july with picnics and celebrations. august is hot and humid and just there. you look at august and can see the start of another school year on the same calender page. when it's august you are getting tired of watering the flowers and picking tomatoes and eating sweet corn has lost its special treat appeal. you know what's really depressing about august? the stores have halloween candy on the shelves already.......