:)

on tuesday, i burned through my remaining pencils in a hot and dedicated round of drawing. yesterday, the fire was still burning high and i (painfully) managed to make a drawing using the pencil stubs- whittling them down until they were ridiculously short and impossible to control. ha! but the gnarly hand cramp that resulted was entirely worth it. not only because the drawing i made is really cool (pics soon), but also because it taught me something about dedication and perseverance. two things i really need and deeply prize.

growing up, the only thing that was consistent was instability and chaos. problems were solved by moving. and we moved a lot. the longest span of time i've spent under one roof is 4 years. and that particular roof is a fluke in the group. 2 years seems to be the average when i look back. and that's even been the case since i moved out on my own. not a lot of stability there. and, more and more, i recognize that stability is a necessity when working toward goals that require a tremendous amount of dedication and focus. daily focus, daily dedication, daily effort in a single direction. persistence and commitment become near-impossible without some sense of stability or confidence that world will not fall apart later this afternoon.

and so i've been supplying stability and consistency to myself. it isn't easy and, some days, it isn't fun either, to tell you the truth. but the benefits are fun. and i'm becoming completely focused on maintaining a deep consistency within myself from here on out, to the absolute best of my ability. it is the only thing i know will get me to where i want to go.

i want to experience positive, joyful, lasting changes in my life and the only way to achieve that is with hard work. dedication and unshakable confidence in the value of art and its governance of my life. i'll get where i'm going one day. i can't really control how much time it takes or how long i might walk down a particular road. but i can control my own levels of dedication to the work. practice. practice. practice. and to truly make a deep, 7 day a week, commitment to art-making, learning, reading, writing, struggling, etc, etc, etc. and to a very large extent, i've already done that... but there's been a lot of second-guessing myself along the way. lots of waiting for the other shoe to drop... because, growing up, there always was another shoe and it always did drop.

but i don't live there anymore and all the shoes here are my own. i know nothing is going to fall apart later this afternoon and that it is entirely logical for me to trust the safety and security of my life at the present moment. i'm the one in charge and i supply my own level of encouragement, safety, and stability. and looking at my life from the outside, i can see i'm pretty good at that stuff. :)

the daily run, especially, has become a very active metaphor for how i want to live my life in general. with faith in The Practice. total trust in its Goodness. some days i catch myself trying to make excuses about why it might be alright to take the day off and just laze around. i'll tell myself oh, i did so much great work yesterday. i deserve to take it easy today and just clown around. it's a cutesy way of living in the past. yesterday is a wonderful memory. nothing more. if it does anything for Today, it lets me know that Today i can accomplish a great deal. but it isn't an excuse to take the day off. it's a brick to build with. today, i can keep building.

aren't i sickening!!!!! hahaha! but i tell ya, my winding daily affirmations are working for me! working wonders! i'm trying for tunnel vision these days. :)

BURN, BABY, BURN!

"...Ravaged."

last night i read 'The Lover' by Marguerite Duras from start to finish in one sitting. and how timely. how absolutely perfectly timed! and my head and body felt all floaty afterward, the way a person feels after being exposed to High Honesty... a religious experience almost. the story, the imperative, of coming in to your own, your way, without conditions or expectations, this perfect acceptance of self regardless of attack or time or family. and also the sadness of it. the knowledge that curls down, curls around your head and reaches in through your eyes down to your heart, the dreadful vine that twists that soft redness, squeezes it until it ruptures, the regret, the wish that it was somehow possible to be something you are not because it would be so much easier! but she doesn't do this to herself. she knows herself... ahead of time and walks in to the whole shebang willingly, with open eyes, a confidence beyond lived experience... her school-girl braids, the gold shoes... and then, her dream to write... just write. and i responded so powerfully to that. it has been how i have felt my entire life. this pull to JUST WRITE SOMETHING. and the deep level of trust she extended to herself, to her need, to her dream- that when the book in her was ready to spring out, it would. and i think that deep level of trust is the only way to get the job done. i think it is the prime ingredient. alpha and omega. art is so religious in some ways. the tenants we keep, the sacrifice and the faith and the blood rushing rushing rushing. the ecstasy! i am so deep in love with art, with all these books i've been reading, all these ideas and images and shades of darker darkest grey. in love in such a deep way as to feel myself, see myself, as i truly am and for a moment, inside that love, to feel no hint of shame. this mode is completely right. this way of being. this way of thinking. this catalogue of life. these vignettes. these offerings. a photograph never taken. a photograph laid on the alter. a human story of love and need and expectation... the large desire that won't be kept still, won't be left in silence, will not be ignored. gorgeous!

and right there on the first page : I often think of the image only I can see now, and of which I've never spoken. It's always there, in the same silence, amazing. It's the only image of myself I like, the one in which I recognize myself, in which I delight.

is this not what an art practice is? finding this image? the record that was never made, the photograph that was never taken... the absent image that is perfect and true and complete because of its absence.

i highly recommend this book. :)

and good morning!

february already...

geez. the new year is flying by! and so i've begun the slowing down process... giving myself reminders to stay in the present, to really pay attention, to use each day toward good aims... to be aware of the wealth of opportunities that surround me (that surround us all), great and small, and to not scoff at any one of them; to proceed with grace and confidence...

one of my life-long problems has been of minimizing. my own pain as well as the good that i do. i was so shy as a child that anything, even wonderful things, that brought me extra attention was something i absolutely did not like. i hid my own talents for years. and now, spending time thinking about TIME, about mortality, i'm choosing... have been choosing... to not hide for one second. to live life as it comes to me: daily. "we are not promised tomorrow". that quote is the last line i write each morning in my journal. a memento mori. and to proceed with as much strength, grace, and confidence that i can.

it's so easy for us humans to forget our accomplishments... the hurdles we've lept over, the hardships we've overcome. and now i set out to let those hardships polish my goodness rather than compromise it. i do not believe that we are given talents and beauties to throw them in the trash.

it's okay to save some things for private experience. but that is not the same thing as hiding.

yesterday, i stocked up on my beloved black gouache. i bought BIG paper and new pencils and found a copy of "Alice's Adventures Underground" at the used bookstore... the edition kiki smith used for her print series. only 15 bucks so i couldn't resist.

my oils are hanging on the walls in varied states of finish. all whispering, all lovely and confident.

i am surrounded by bibles. these things, these objects, these marks on paper. art and its' tools. my many loves quicken my breath and my heart jumps and i am amazed and humbled and curious. there is deep deep deep play in my heart and shoulders and finger tips (rebecca). it is such a huge act of trust, of faith, of grace, of willingness to learn, to stumble, to find, to try.

i am eager.

i love everything.