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Day one, July 14, 2014
Most, if not all of my work, painting, drawing......is a result of emotion. I am naked before the world, and have now been diagnosed: Bipolar ll. I read years ago how it was thought that many artists are bipolar, as a look at histories of famous artists shows this. I will research further, for it is a sore spot with me, as I always used to kid about me being bipolar because I am an artist, but to actually be diagnosed? Taking meds? One of the things you will find is that I am very......thrifty. Or just cheap. I rarely like to spend money on certain things, like food, GAS, MEDS, clothes. SO,therefore I am a poor patient. (they say all healthcare professionals are poor pts; DOCTORS ARE THE WORST.) I weaned myself off of Depakote, when I was epileptic, without a physicians advice or even knowledge,(and had a seizure doing it), to weaning myself off lamictal just recently, but successfully. I did a much better job with lamictal. The lamictal had been prescribed as a mood stabilizer, but I felt it hadn't done anything, I felt no change after months being on it, so I weaned myself off, and it is a difficult process, for being an anticonvulsant, if you wean too quickly, you can have a seizure, and, woo boy, I did not want THAT again. It is what started the whole mess. So, epilepsy as kid, bipolar as old fart, and just a mess of confusion as to identity as adult.
Actually that mess is still with me. My artwork is my way of finding out who I am and it makes me feel good because I like to do it. I like many of my pieces and feel successful, especially as I never had any instruction. Ah. good for you, you say, now take some classes. But that is the thing, another item on my list of things I do not want to spend money on. But, you say, if you learn more, you may actually have a way of making money during your retirement, for living on SS alone is a good way of being very poor. What can I say? I do not paint the things that are popular, nor will I ever do that, not because I just don't "paint to please others" but because I just can't paint what is popular; I like to do the different thing, paint the different thing. I can do commissions. They are fun. I did one for a few friends, and it excites me because it is like solving a puzzle.
I do not see in words, but pictures. I am horrible at conversation, my usable vocabulary is very different from my spoken one. I forget words, phrases; I honestly don't know how I will get through this blog, and it was MY IDEA. I went out with a guy who insisted I should do this, and I refused, horrified and afraid, but I am using this forum as a journal for me, another way to find myself, so I am not writing for you, dear reader, but me. So there.
Get the picture?
July 15 2014
And so, naked emotions will out. I just had a comment on one of my pictures; he is a pen and ink, of a guy, looks like he is flying (he does have wings.....) and she said, 'he looks like he has PTSD". Actually, he does. If you had to work for Satan, you would, too. He is his oldest son, and he is in love with a human girl, something that in his culture would be anathema, but love is weird. Satan, of course, expects him to end up tricking her into loving him and then leaving her; but he is flying back from hell to be with his beloved, (and that is the name of the painting I made of it), for he has made up his mind to leave Satan, in disgust. Love conquers. Maybe not all, but love conquers. If it doesn't conquer your foes, it will conquer you. And it has me, hook. line and everything else. I am in love with love. Never could find anyone to live up to that. But I like being alone; I do my own thing, and I can imagine away. I even get orgasms in my dreams..............uh oh.
July 19 2014
To my mental health; to stress, without it, where would we be? People would be so boring. Art would be so boring. It has been argued that without stress, our bodies would not be able to solve puzzles, invent new technology, paint beautiful (or not so beautiful) art. I suppose it can go too far; I am so stressed out I have been waking up at 1 am with thoughts of failure on my mind, and I have no room for any creative thoughts. So, up yours to the feel good asshole who said stress is good. Now I go to physical stress so I can forget my mental stress. On to the next chapter........
later the same day
I just rode my bike, taking in the sights for ideas, and one thing that has come to my attention is the outbreak if algae blooms, poisonous to life;and how I saw a slough arm with green/brown algae in standing water, but with a bush nearby with some struggling purple blossoms; there she is, Gaia fighting to give birth in this cruel, and becoming impossible, world.Watch out for the storms, guys, she is pissed.
Back to passion.
I get a liberal political rag via email, and a woman wrote a piece, the caption a photo of a VERY pissed off woman: actually looked like a picture of Boudicca, the celtic warrior queen. She is angry and starting to come out of a shell she had made for herself,that we all have made, a hole we have made for ourselves, pulling the earth over our little heads. You see, us: the supposed middle class, getting poorer and poorer, but still struggling, actually thinking our hard work will get us somewhere, and even against the progressives shouting in the wind, like Elizabeth Warren, because we feel that if we stay on the side of the rich, it will rub off on us. But that will never happen. The woman who wrote that even admitted to being against the raising of the minimum wage, because it would make her wage closer to that poverty she had been in. It rubs; if we make the minimum wage higher, then what I make looks less................It's about time we all got raises, it's about time we called for more unions. Why are the American people so against unions? Think on it, guys, and talking about guys, a guy I went with, I shall call him the angry white male, because that is what he is; he wants no equality for others, it will make him look less. Sound familiar? He was angry about the NAACP, claiming it was unfair, because there should be a National coalition of white people. He was not only angry, but an asshole. I am not as passionate anymore because I am almost at the end of the game. I am 6 years away from retirement, but I don't want to work anymore. I have my eyes that see and want to create the passion it turns into, i want to feel what I see. I want to taste what I see. I want to love what I see. Love bites.
Had a gallery event, Arts Alive! night at Mckinleyville, my paintings were hanging at the Joyful Healer church; what was amazing was how the christians took what I had painted and gave it their own subject; which I don't mind, many of my paintings, as I have said, are my emotions, are spiritual in a sense. I just know that they are all meaningful, and not just a representation of reality; they really liked "the Door". To them, it would seem like the door to hidden secrets of Jesus' ideas. To me, it is the entrance way to a different experience. Another World? Wow!! They said I was very spiritual l with my representation of myself in the different phases of my cancer treatment. When I got the DX, it was the "Undefeated"; I denied the fact that I had a very serious illness going on here, for my thoughts were on where I would go after the treatments were over. I obviously could not stay there, I heard the words: "chemo brain" and knew I couldn't last there. After the mastectomy, I painted "mental anguish" as you notice, I could not depict myself without a breast, but I knew I was no longer a woman. I felt asexual. A few years later. all this denial caught up with me, and I had a breakdown: I burst into tears at work, at the office (home health). I spent a year learning that it was OK for me to fail, which I still have not accepted, but I now am not as fearful of asking for help, but I still trust very few people. It has been my experience that people cannot be trusted with helping you. Period. What I did discover about myself was that I liked myself a lot more than I used to. I was always very vain, not about my looks so much as my build. Now, I no longer think of that, I no longer care if I am looking ok, or if I am attractive to the opposite sew. I don't care about that. I just don't wear make up, and I am slender so I am healthy. (cheaper in the long run...)