Seraphina Sleeping

i was writing and painting and i stopped writing and kept painting. Then working and painting and then i was just working so i started painting again. But work never goes away bc we are trapped into it. Made into it. Breaking out and Breaking a Sweat. Sitting. Writing.

My sacrum is a concrete block. I'm stretching toward my toes and my upper body, all bendy like willow branches in the wind, is cast in a block of concrete. Planted. Roots. Chakras. Pain. They measured my legs and said good luck. Listen, itisnotthatbad, on paper you look great. I look great on paper for things I don't care about. In reality it all goes willy nilly and I just go home. Up a tree or under a rock. Somewhere quiet, away from the lot of you. No offense. To contort into yoga poses..incorrectly.

I watched Snow Piercer last night. Americas Economy on a train going straight to hell. It was good. Really good. Accurate enough to make me feel sickly. Not totally new, same story. different setting. A Good One.

The days i hate the  city blur into the days that i love it. The days i paint or run blur into the days that i don't. i sleep too much and get drunk off my dreams. Bleary and swollen stumbling stretching.Wake up.

The thing no one tells about loving yourself is that when you figure it out and finally do it - you can't end up loving yourself too much to leave who are. Because you will keep changing. and you will leave yourself..the selves that you hate and even the selves that you love. You have to be brave because you can't stay.

July 22, 2014. My 36th Birthday. Bank of the Mississippi River

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Criterion

So I had this art show at a restaurant and it turned out pretty well. I sold things cheaper than I should have,but i needed to make room for more. Needed to clear some out. And all the people that go where I go are usually poor. Most of the people that I want to own my work are probably poor. Ha. Anyway i had to quickly finish some stuff and got kind of manic and crazy and it was great.

I'm drawing at work now. Little sticky note canvas. I see paintings in the woodgrain and the streaked windows. I stare and hings turn and morph into drippy paint. It is pretty fabulous. I neglected my precious pretend brain for so long it went to bed. That is how this city is. you have to pay attention to it. to the real world. In the small forest towns I  lived in before you can walk around in a dream world, half imagining you are something else all the time. Its not like that anymore. It is not like that here. It takes guts to live here. Like literally, the city may take your guts, or whatever it is about yourself that you love.

Things change. I do things the hard way. I learn things the hard way. It's okay. I am going to see my parents this weekend, to see Spring and the new puppies and the new calves and all the blooming things. And my lovely parents and their twinkling eyes and now wrinkling skin.  The extra hour of daylight plus longer days is just food for my spirit. Well, that and the Floradix Iron Supplement. Today is actually a good day, one of those days where i actually hope they do not explode the planet just yet.

The Criterion, 2012, acrylic on canvas

 

photosynthesis