hermitage

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it is a very very very hot day.

i am hiding indoors.

i am trying to solve my puzzles.

rearrange rearrange.








the spider is almost done.

the sun is up

yesterday, after i wrote that big beast of a post below, i got lost in a word document for the rest of the day. what began as a letter, morphed in to an odd twisty curly memoir-ish sort of thing that just kept rolling and rolling and rolling. i'd write for awhile and then stand up and walk around the house and go outside with my dog for a minute and then come back in and get another cup of coffee and look at my paintings for a minute and then the next line would pop in my head so i'd sit right back down in front of the glowing rectangle and write some more. back and forth like that over and over again. and before i knew it, my sweetheart was walking back in the door from work and the sun was beginning to drop and 4,000 words were sitting in front of me. 4,000 words is not a ton but all inside a single day it sort of is and its been happening like that more and more frequently lately. the last few months, my stamina for The Work in general has steadily increased and i find myself coming up on the end of the day so quickly lately. and i find myself worn out when i get in to bed. and excited to go to bed so that i can wake up early and get back to it the next morning.

maybe it's because the sun comes up so much earlier now? maybe it's because i have to obey The Almighty Jog so much earlier now that summer is here? maybe it's because i have finally learned how to obey a Bed Time? maybe it's all the books i'm reading? maybe it's learning how to just fucking relax a bit and not worry so much about what all this might add up to or what it means? maybe it's because i type out all this weird self-exploration here on a public blog where anybody who wants to see it can?

whatever it is, a surge had resulted. and this letter i started writing is to a person i don't even know. it's in response to something they wrote, something that touched a bad memory and i saw something of myself, some of my regrets and fears in their work, i wanted to tell somebody i suppose about the time i feel i've lost...

and so this letter curves all around, runs in 4 directions at once, goes wild and sad and strange. and i realize while i write it that i haven't lost any time at all. that everything that came before leads up to Right Now and Right Now is full of excitement and enthusiasm and commitment. Right Now i have a story to tell. and so it's a letter that will never be "sent" because it's no longer a letter. it's this whole other thing and my mind and heart are wrapped up in it and there's some huge wind of honest exposure and acceptance that flows out of it already- the undoing of secrecy, the unraveling of expectation. and my long-windedness unleashed a bright wind of hope yesterday. rambling, stuttering, striving. a search taking place. a map being made. bad teeth being removed. the ugly bed being made. yesterday was a good day.

and so The Almighty Jog awaits. and the letter. and the curling road. and oil on the wall and graphite on the palm and dog's ears to scratch and hope to have and coffee coffee coffee and word words words. the bang of keys and the scratch of things and today i think i'll spend a little time singing.

how are you?

trying to fend it off...

i've been feeling more and more restless lately...
it's probably the summer heat.

i always thought that seasonal depression was pretty much a winter affliction but i'm starting to think i've been wrong about that. thinking back, i was pretty much always depressed when i lived in southern california. the drain of 6 months of 100+ degree heat definitely took its toll. day after day of lethargic, unenthusiastic HOT does not do a body good. NOT. and so that's probably where this weird restlessness is coming from...

we'll see.

but the major culprit: i think i need a friend. all my really, really good friends live pretty far away. the nearest one is an hour and a half drive from here. that's not exactly a winning combination. the few friends i've managed to make during the past year or so here in wine-land are fun, good-hearted people but they don't really care about art like i do... i generally do most of the talking in those conversations (if we even discuss it at all). they're also all married with children- something i know nothing about and don't plan on knowing about for quite some time either. i'm on a completely different path, full of completely different interests and ethics, and it gets to be a bit lonely to say it plainly. where are all the almost 30, unmarried, childless, artist females? ha! is that a tall order? am i an anomaly? okay... what about any artist female, any age, but who isn't going to make me stare at her kid with her or put me in the middle of fights between her and her husband? any of those in the world? how 'bout a female artist, any age, divorced, and whose kids are grown and gone? there's GOT to be a few of those out there. got to be!

women need other women. it's a fact. i guess i'm just feeling a little homesick for my old circle... i miss all that laughter.

officially official...

july 1st. summer's here. and with it, all my old dreams of traveling and artist residencies. the country seems too quiet lately. i've been aching for the pace of the city again. this happens every few months and probably always will until i get back to the city. i miss it. i miss the tall buildings and trains. i miss the wind and the chill off the bay. i miss the galleries and museums and the fashion-show that exists on every corner of every street. i miss having so many people to watch. i need to start saving money again. i know i can't hide out in the countryside forever... or for much longer. i have to be in the thick of it, moving quick and bustling along with the impatient throng of other humans. wine-land is a place to get away from all that or a place to come once you're established and you want some quiet. it's where you come when the lights start to hurt your eyes and the noise starts to make you cranky. but i'm not cranky and my eyes don't hurt and i miss everything that comes along for the ride when you live in a big city. i miss san francisco. i miss my beloved oakland. and even though it's not that long of a drive, it's still not the same. not nearly. i've got some planning to do. and some dreaming too. The Jog helps with those things and so does painting. it's time to get back on board with all the big dreams that got me out of a small town the first time.

effing summertime...

ah... uhhhh... blah.... it's 105 degrees here in wine-land. gross. so gross. extra gross. and though we've got a swamp-cooler, the line that feeds it water has cracked since last summer so we're roasting here in our little cottage. the dog is laying limp on the linoleum and my sweetie and i are both ready to follow her lead. no more painting for today. i can barely move without feeling disgusting. it's sticky and hot and i'm wondering how the hell this could be happening... didn't i move out of southern california to get away from heat like this?