Happy Fall Y'all.
For the last week a cold/flu virus has kicked my butt so hard I completely missed Sunday and most of Monday is a blur. I slept and slept and slept. How did I get so rundown? I'm doing it again, I realized. Burning the candle at both ends. Not eating. Living on caffeine. The more tired I get the harder I push myself... vicious cyclic events ensue.
Despite my inherent insomnia and the nagging cough, I am feeling much better now. I hate being sick more than I can say. I always wait for the sense of improvement or degradation. Always a little afraid I could be dying. Don't laugh... I've been there several times in my life. My pancreas almost kicked out on me when I was 16, my appendix almost burst when I was 19. I've been in a car accident (not a serious one). Wrecked my bicycle (seriously)... these things happen. I've been hospitalized more times than I can remember. I feel very afraid at times. Well, not really...
I feel like I've been in some kind of vortex of home-based everything. I look around me and I see all these things that have changed. I think I forgot somewhere along the line that I am still trying to settle in to this new house. Still trying to unpack and organize. It's tough. Finding balance... is there such a thing? I like to pretend I can skim across the waters and do just fine, but occasionally I sink to the bottom. I crashed sometime Sunday morning. I like the drama of the crash, I guess. I push til I get it, at least.
I put a lot of effort into prepping for my show and it paid off. An extra month to exhibit is awesome. I don't think I slept much this summer though. I realize now why art school kids crash on the nearest couch when they have a show they are getting ready for. It's hard work. Raising two kids and taking care of an entire household and getting ready for a show isn't exactly a slice of pie either. I've exhibited three times since July. No wonder I am zonked. And that's all local. I cannot imagine traveling on top of it all. I'd be dead by now I think. I am always wishing for shows in other parts of the province, country, continent but there must a reason why I remain local. Or so I keep telling myself...
My current parenting struggle is bedtime. Neither child wants to go to bed at a decent hour. In the back of my mind I am always wondering if I am being too strict or not strict enough about this issue. Sometimes these kids don't crash until well after midnight. I look around and we are the only ones on the whole street who seem to be awake past 10:30 at night. Lights are on. Music is blaring. Kids are screaming and laughing and having a great time. I try to not care what our neighbors think but sometimes... sometimes I wonder. I haven't lived in an apartment for ages but I still cringe every time the kids thump the floor. I know they are getting their eight hours and I guess that's the main thing and I am pretty sure they are not that loud.
My goal for this week is to instill a decent bedtime again. Or at least think about it. Talk about it. Ask around. Either that or check myself in to a hotel and let the monkeys have the house for their crazy jungle lifestyle.
I've taken a bunch of new photos of my work. I kind of flew through the endeavor this morning... I have the tools to take better photos of my paintings, I just need to figure out how I want to use them. I feel so independent and alone... boohoo. I am lonely. I am. Not in that kinda way--but in the way that I am starving for connection to the energy of other people. Soul starvation? Something like that.
Anyway. Anyway. Anyway.
Here is a little soul food for all of you because I love you, dear reader. I do. I believe in you and I give back to you. I am the consummate hippy when it comes to love. And a few other things, but that's a story for another dimension.
My newest watercolor. On exhibit at the WW Craig Gallery right now.
A crooked stone house inspired by a dream I had.
And now some artsy photos of my art. Indulge me, will ya?
A Poster Sized print? Yes. Beautiful.
5x7 Prints in frames
Inspired by my ex"boyfriend". He knows who he is. Rawr.
And alas... my studio. Again again.
I love these little sculptures. If I ever sell them I think I will cry sad/happy tears.
I sell my art HERE in case you forgot.
Local artists: support yours.