The soul they tell me.
I discovered something today, a link…to a truth. I stopped trying to market my artwork when I got sick with the cancer, I just didn’t have it in me anymore, the shows, the commissions, the PR, the running around, the sell, sell, sell! of it all…you know? I made a living with my art for many years…many years, I was blessed and I felt talented and successful. Why do I feel less-than those feelings now that the art is stagnate? I have a full-time job and I run this studio and I run my home like the good-wife and I am…I am…I…
I have been kicking my own ass for two years now, over not being who and what I was before the cancer. I am not her anymore. She got shit done, she. got. shit. done…that’s for sure, but I am not her on the other side of this thing. I irritate myself now. Trying to make art into money?! Ugh. I actually bristle on the inside about it, because it doesn’t feel like me anymore. Ask any one that has ever known me, I’m kinda famous (infamous, notorious, what have you) for my…energy…my go-go-go juice, my ability to land on my feet has always been an asset. (to me at least)
The work is so much deeper than it used to be, it also takes a lot out of me now to create. I only have so much I can do anymore, this is unlikely to change…I am not the me I was then…back when I didn’t count anyway, my value as a being was tied up in the “see I am a successful self taught bad ass mo-fo because I can make a living and support my whole family with crap I pull out of my brain pan and splash on canvas” thing… I don’t think she can come back. Funny thing is the old me…she was a cancer survivor too (this is round two for me in my life) she also had the pain and fog from that…she got shit done and did it while in pain…she did that for 20 years…but she didn’t count, wasn’t worthy of caring for so I rode her hard and hung her up wet. I should have been nicer to her, I guess.
Now it’s just the me I am now. She has a full time life, with a body that can do 1/3 what is needed in any given day. She has pain. She is tired. I don’t recognize myself in the mirror, I feel I have changed that much. I look into a strangers eye, I see her check her hair and teeth. I see her. I don’t know her, but I live with her. She’s got a good sense of humor I’ll give her that. She loves her people, pretty hard. She misses dancing. She likes M&M’s, a lot, too much….and she dreams about feeling deeply loved and painting and dancing and singing and writing and loving and most of all…painting.
This is different.
I don’t want to sell art anymore.
I want to find the work homes. It’s like they are done teaching me what I need when we ( me and the art are the “royal” we) are finished with the making…but the job of the work itself after it’s “birth”…is to find it’s place so it can go do it’s thing…coz I got other things to learn…we all move on…What good are they by the 100’s to me in the studio? The thing that keeps them here in the studio is not giving them away for free. Insisting that someone give me money for them… I do gift people when it strikes me, when my heart and soul says to do it, I do it. Every time. Those…feel so good. Then there are the times when people come alive a little bit in front of me and share that feeling with me…so much better than the feeling of making art pay bills. I guess that’s why I am doing things differently…now…not that it’s working or anything.
Hearts are home to me now not buildings.
I discovered when we moved…I thought all the “feely” feelings I was having were “stress” related to the insecure housing thing…but it didn’t go away after the move, it increased. Every time I wake up, BAM there I am. It’s me… not the stress of living…it’s me, isn’t it? Fuck a duck, I knew it.
I have so many dreams I want to explore with the rest of this life…so many new friends to meet and love to share….places to go…LOVE to share with my husband and children (friends and family) and art to make to explain what I learn/feel/discover.
I don’t know what’s happening or what will come of it all or what I am supposed to be learning.
It’s all a mystery.
I am not unhappy. Only trying to learn. I am not happy. Only trying to learn.
I am sad. I have lost a close friend, recently and the old fear nipped at my heels again. I continue. I strive to understand and process and become what it is I am becoming. I try not to fear. I practice faith. I do the work. I show up. I’ll figure it out.
But first, I’m gonna go sit in a hot tub with lots of salt. Yeah.
Love always, HA! <3