Sometimes I go through periods of life where I quite literally keep my head down. I walk with my eyes towards the ground. I type at my desk with my neck bent acutely enough that my chin is nearly parallel to my chest. I stop reading books or news or other daily affirmations and replace them instead with negative or neutral mantras of “getting through the day”. And it’s such a waste. Of energy. Of time. Of life.
It’s east to blame my job. It is stressful, monotonous. As of late, minimally gratifying.
But that isn’t an excuse for why I have allowed myself to go dead. I’ve stopped tapping my normal outlets. I haven’t painted in four weeks; worse than that, I have had no motivation to.
I haven’tgone to yoga in weeks either. After four months of what could be considered a religious schedule of practice. The latter makes me incredibly sad.
And it’s not the weather. It’s not my job. It’s me. I go through phases of discontent and malaise where I feel like my mind is turning to jello but I am always too lazy to do anything about it. It’s amazing I’m finger typing this now. I’m forcing myself to, even though every molecule in me is SCREAMING that this doesn’t matter and recording my thoughts in the moment is insignificant. Well duck you, Gaby’s lazy brain! If settling into a banal routine of work-eat-sleep-repeat and succumbing thusly to limited mental and physical energy outlets is what I can expect of myself at 23 years old. Ooof. Then I guess I don’t want to stick around for 24.
I realize I am being dramatic. And slightly manic. I’m just sick of hanging out in these doldrums that I’m so clearly stuck in. Maybe I should go to bed. Start tomorrow “fresh”. Making a list always helps me better.
So yeah. Uhm. List to come.
Snacks on Snacks on Snaaaaaacks
She cried about not having a portrait, and she ended up with two. #spoiled 👑
Last night at the Sundance Film Festival. Fantastic films. Amazing friends. So incredibly happy. (at Egyptian Theatre)
First attempt at watercolor nudes: How to become a mermaid, or, saving face from a fussy painting.
I’m also in love with my second work. Dat ass.
Also accomplished this weekend: Much needed big grocery trip & extended hang time with my best friend.
Recent thoughts: Is the spinosaurus a real dinosaur? Josue, the 9 y.o. I tutored on Saturday insists that it is - and drew me a picture to further prove it. How fat is too fat for a house cat? I can’t just stop feeding her, but she’s clearly getting a pudge in her stomach. I need to buy more cat toys - that counts as cat exercise, right? Is it too close to stalkerish if go to my fave yogi’s class every day this week? Maybe. Probably not. I should go to all of Aqeel’s yoga classes this week. My new paints should be in the mail to me by now (!) A mani/pedi is desperately needed. When was the last time I shaved my legs? Can’t I just be furry for forever?
Moments of bliss: Hearing Josue’s passionate explanation of why the spinosaurus is the best dinosaur. Tracing an outline on the floor of my friend’s studio, looking up and seeing her also on the floor, painting her first watercolor in years. This text message from my nana: “I’m quite certain that Jesus did not wear bikini panties.” The light kisses on the side of my neck, waking me up this morning. My kitten happily playing with the new toy I bought her. The (admittedly adorable) poorly executed winks from across the table when it’s just the two of us at dinner.
No, things aren’t perfect. But I’m actually enjoying treading water, and the wait for the next big wave to hit has never been so anticipated.
The times they are a changin’.
Nothing more to post. I have cat lady duties to attend to.
And because I feel it is inappropriate to only share a work I am upset with (see post before this), I figured I’d share a recent painting that I am very proud of: Watercolor portrait of my mother and kid sister.
To briefly gloat, the end of 2013 rocked. The start, not as great since I welcomed it in with a case of strep throat.
The one thing on my mind tonight as I stare at this painting that I’m convinced I’ve ruined with too much ugly yellowish green and some nasty overly geometric lily pads? I seriously lack self control and patience. If only I could wait for the paint to dry long enough. If only I was less eager to put more color and life into the painting. But at the same time. I realize I’ve also got to be okay with just letting go. Even in the small time that I’ve begun to paint (uh yeah three weeks), I’ve already learned that trying to control what my painting becomes is just stupid and joyless and teaches me nothing and gives me nothing. Just frustration.
Neither patience, nor acceptance come natural to me. With the New Year recently behind me, I’m thinking that cultivating more patience and acceptance and becoming more attuned to and comfortable with when it is appropriate to just let go should really be my personal foci for 2014.
For the record I am not one of those people who makes resolutions every January. But what the hell. I definitely need this. More eloquent thoughts later when it isn’t 11:15pm and I’m not finger typing my stream of consciousness onto tumblr from my phone.
I’m also realizing that my lillypads look like boobs in this painting. Maybe I should stick to painting humans. Someone send me a nude.