The Accidental Artist

Moved to TypePad

2007-02-03T11:14:00.000-05:00

New Year, new place. All my old stuff will be here, but new work will be at the new joint.

Living in My Left Brain

2006-10-18T09:28:00.000-05:00

Lately I've neglected my art because of a need to work on other projects that are more left-brained. This is making me a more boring person, I'm afraid, as I have difficulty switching off my left brain and accessing the passion and heart that resides on the right side of my head.

Last night I forced myself to let go of words and to operate in the visual arena. It felt good.

Where in the World is Carmen San Diego?

2006-10-04T12:20:00.000-05:00

For those who may be wondering if I've given up the creative ghost, the answer is no. Although my creativity is currently being channeled here and here. I felt badly about this for awhile, and then I read Barbara Lobenstine's The Renaissance Soul: Life Design for People with too Many Passions to Pick Just One and I decided to accept that 1) I am a "Renaissance Soul," 2) in certain circles this is admired and 3) creativity can be expressed in a variety of ways.

Let me know what you think of my newest passion. Positive reinforcement and insults equally welcome. Alright, I lie. Mostly I want the postive reinforcement.

In Lieu of Anything Original

2006-09-20T14:37:00.000-05:00

Indexed. Quite amusing--sort of a "3rd grade teacher meets Jon Stewart" sensibility. I find that I have to think, too, which is always a plus. Except when I'm brain-dead as I am now for some unknown reason.

Via Dooce who gets to make a living looking at and linking to this stuff. My dream job.

5 a.m. This Morning

2006-09-19T06:22:00.000-05:00

Darvin: "Nice hair."

Me: "What's the matter with it?"

Darvin: "Nothing. You just have an anime sort of thing going on."

Me: "Thanks."

What Kind of Genius Are You?

2006-09-09T06:55:00.000-05:00

Most of the time, I don't have a plan when I draw. Well, I have a plan in that I'm trying to draw something, but beyond that I find that it sort of evolves, often into something completely unrelated to the original. Here, I started out trying to draw a beautiful woman. Somehow it evolved into something androgynous and unrecognizable in comparison to the photo that was my inspiration.

It made me think about this article that I read in Wired Magazine about the nature of artistic genius. Economist David Galenson did a study of artists and discovered that there were two basic types--those who created their most valuable work in their youth and those that seemed to experience a steady rise in their creativity that peaked toward the end of their lives. Further exploration revealed to him that there are essentially two kinds of innovation and genius.

The first is what he calls conceptual innovation. These are the people who have a picture in their minds of what they want to create and in a series of bold, sharp moves they create it. Picasso is an example of this type--someone who created an entirely new style of art (Cubism) and who "jolted art in a new direction."

The second group are the experimental innovators. These people progress in fits and starts, trying new things, discarding them, moving in a slower progression with insights from one small experiment getting incorporated into the next in an evolutionary process that ultimately can end up someplace entirely different from where they began. Galenson places Cezanne in this second group--working endlessly to perfect his technique, he moved slowly toward a goal that he never fully understood. As a result, some of his best work didn't come until the end of his life.

Galenson argues that this insight isn't confined to art, that it is, in fact, a way of looking at all sorts of creativity and innovation. He applied it in his own field of study--economics--and discovered that it held true for them, too.

Reading this created one of those "aha" moments for me. In all facets of my life I find that I'm more experimental than conceptual. I tinker and play around with things, never totally sure where I'm going, but knowing when I get there. I find that I'm often jealous, though, of those who are more conceptual, particularly when it comes to creating art. Somehow it seems to me that the essence of being an artist is knowing where you're going. Intellectually I know this isn't true, but emotionally, I have a hard time letting go of that proposition.

I think that part of my discomfort with the more experimental approach is the feeling that I get that our society values conceptual innovation more. We're drawn to early genius and to the idea of having a clear, knowable path. Somehow there's a kind of comfort in believing that people know where their going and what they're doing and the idea of evolution of ideas is disconcerting--what if they end up some place that we don't like?

I find, though, that lately I'm getting more comfortable with this more experimental way of living. I'm trying to actually be thoughtful in my experimentation, to know and accept that it's my own way of getting through life. I'm working on accepting that and being OK with uncertainty. It also means having to let go of perfectionism and embracing risk, but hey, at almost 43 years old, isn't it time that I did those things anyway?

Amour

2006-09-09T06:34:00.000-05:00

Illustration Friday--Safe

2006-09-03T20:00:00.000-05:00

Sometimes safety is overrated.

art is short

2006-09-03T19:52:00.000-05:00

Friday night we went to see Art after 5. We drank over-priced appletinis and ate over-priced food while we watched Art in Motion. Yesterday I thought about how in the digital age, art is more available to everyone through the Internet. We can use all kinds of easily accessible tools to create digital art. But is this a good thing?

While we were at the Museum, we looked at some paintings, too. We could see the brushwork of the artists and I thought about how at some time, each artist had poured his sweat--literally--into his work. How there were real physical pieces of the artist in each painting. And do we lose something in this digital age when art can be created entirely in bits and bytes? I love to alter my drawings in my paint program, but is this creating something that's more removed from me? And then when I scan it, is it even more distant? I don't know the answer, but it's an interesting question for me.

Cat Questions

2006-08-16T09:50:00.000-05:00

As I'm unable to produce any art lately, herewith a non-art related post . . .

Why does the cat refuse to sleep in either of the two cat beds kindly provided by Leona, preferring instead to sleep on the floor, a dining room chair or the couch?

What is going through her tiny cat brain when she watches us, eyes narrowed with a "don't fuck with me" look on her little cat face? Probably, "don't fuck with me" but this leads to. . .

Why does she, from out of nowhere, give us the "don't fuck with me look" when we're just sitting on the couch, minding our own business? Is she remembering times when we did fuck with her? Just putting out a sort of blanket warning so that we'll think twice before we DO fuck with her? When she does this, I feel slightly insulted, as I do when someone blames me for something I haven't done.

Why would it matter to me if my cat was "blaming" me for something?

Captured

2006-08-04T21:23:00.000-05:00

Illustration Friday is captured.

Can't Complain

2006-08-04T21:20:00.000-05:00

"Can't complain." It's what old men say.

"How are you, Grandpa."

"I'm good. Woke up this morning, so that's a good thing. No, I can't complain."

Is it a good or a bad thing when waking up in the morning is all it takes to keep you from complaining?

Lately

2006-07-31T21:36:00.000-05:00

Also a Corrinne Bailey Rae night.

Cannonball

2006-07-31T21:15:00.000-05:00

A Damien Rice evening.

SLoW pArENtS

2006-07-30T19:35:00.000-05:00

The Zoloft is working.Fortunately we wentbefore anything really awful happened.

The other night she said, "Mom, I'm feeling better." She said it quietly, almost like she was ashamed. Then she said "Sometimes I'll feel happy and then I'll think 'Oh, it's just the medicine.'"

Yes, it's the medicine, but not like pot makes you giddy. More like how an antibiotic cures the infection. You feel "normal," not something that you're not. So it's all good. I'm happy.

Plum

2006-07-23T10:25:00.000-05:00

Inspired by Samantha who was discovered by Janey. She has such an incredibly strong face and is a joy to draw.

A Long Week

2006-07-23T10:18:00.000-05:00

Anxiety is love's greatest killer. It makes others feel as you might when a

drowning man holds on to you. You want to save him,

but you know he will strangle you with his panic.

--Anais Nin

It's hard to watch your children go through what you've experienced and to know that there's nothing you can do except be there for them. J is on Zoloft now (a very good thing) and I'm concentrating on being the lifeguard who isn't pulled down by her emotions. She's surrounded by people who don't fully understand what it's like to live in the soupy sea of anxiety and mood disorder. But I know, so at least she has that.

Blue Mood

2006-07-12T21:41:00.000-05:00

An Art Break

2006-07-10T08:57:00.000-05:00

Not that I've been doing much art lately. . .

In the past few months, I've noticed that my spam filter is increasingly useless at filtering out some of the more creative subject lines. While it knows to send anything to do with "increasing penis size," to my junk mail folder, it's unsure what to do with "Shamelessly" or "unused social studies." Well, actually, it IS sure what to do with those--it leaves them in my inbox. I find them quite amusing, however. Some of my favorites:

goon amiably (a friendly shake-down artist)
when hair wasn't (wasn't what?)
Fish Tycoon (there's a money maker)
Way Levi Whitaker held Adeline (sounds like Amish S&M to me)
don't be cooped up (NEVER!)

And of course, I still have my old favorites such as "Enquiry" (why yes, of COURSE I'd love to send you my banking information!) and "Please update your paypal account by clicking on this link." It's good to see you my old friends. . .

Another Reason to Love My Husband

2006-07-04T21:25:00.000-05:00

Tonight . . .

Him: What's the matter? Do you miss the girls?

Me: I don't know. Yes, I miss them a little. But I just feel out of sorts. Like I should be doing something on the business. I'm annoyed at how little I've accomplished.

Him: I think that sometimes you have to respect the rhythms of your body.

Me: What do you mean? Like the fact that I'm having my period?

Him: Yes. . . . there's a time for creating and a time for just being still within yourself. When you try to fight against yourself, you just feel guilty and you don't accomplish anything anyway. You need to learn how to relax into things more and let them happen when they happen. Now isn't necessarily your best time for being productive.

Why does my husband seem to know more about being a woman than I do?

Intentions

2006-06-20T05:10:00.000-05:00

This weekend I read The Attractor Factor by Joe Vitale. I have always believed in the power of intentions, but I found his book to be particularly compelling. Putting your intentions out into the world is a way of inviting flow into your life, of accepting the role that faith and your spiritual persona play in creating your life. When I've had faith that everything would happen as it should, things have always gone as they needed to. Not always without pain, but always with tremendous growth and opportunity.

Right now I'm in the midst of much change. On the surface, it's about my career and what I want to do with my life. But below that, much deeper within me, it's about whether or not I'm going to let go of what has limited me in the past. I've come to a certain place in my life that is good, but that is not quite good enough. I still please too much, still worry all the time. These are things that need to go.

It's interesting to see how often negativity flits across my brain. I'm trying to watch it as an observer and to dismiss it, the way I would wave away a gnat. This is often easier said than done. But I want to rid myself of these vestiges of a life that came before, a life that needs to be changed and reinvented.

So I put my new intentions out into the world . . .

Wishbone

2006-06-10T15:59:00.000-05:00

Illustration Friday--Jungle

2006-06-10T14:40:00.000-05:00

Jungle Queen

Fear . . .

2006-06-06T20:39:00.000-05:00

can rule you, if you let it.

Illustration Friday--Portrait

2006-06-06T20:18:00.000-05:00

For Illustration Friday. . . this is my mantra lately, as I look at leaving a full-time, relatively certain job that I've grown to despise most of the time to do something I really love--help people figure out what they want to do with the rest of their lives.

Letting go is typically hard for me. I don't commit easily, but when I do, I hold onto everything--relationships, jobs, books, clothes--long past the time that I should. I'm always afraid that I'm "misjudging" people or not giving something a chance. If things aren't clearly terrible, then I keep muddling on. Martyr is my middle name. But I've realized that you do have to let go sometimes. You have to make room for new things to come into your life. This book has helped, giving me a lot to think about in terms of how to re-shape my life, how to go for what really sustains me.

So this week, I'm planning to do that. To clear out some space to make room for even better things to come. Wish me luck.

"I Hope"

2006-05-25T20:22:00.000-05:00

Got the new Dixie Chicks CD and it's amazing. The last track, I Hope, inspired this. I think that's what kills me about our world right now. Our children ARE watching and what they're learning is hate and ugliness.

Favorite line--"I don't wanna hear nothin' else about killin' and that it's God's will."

Amen. That's not MY God. And I'm tired of being made to feel that I'm un-American or going to hell if I don't buy into that crap.

Sunday morningI heard the preacher say
Thou’ shall not kill
I don’t wanna hear nothin’ else
About killin’ and that it’s God’s will
‘Cause our children are watching us
They put their trust in us
They’re gonna be like us
So let’s learn from our history
And do it differently(I hope)
For more love, more joy and laughter(I hope)
We’ll have more than you’ll ever need(I hope)
We’ll have more happy ever afters(I hope)
And we can all live more fearlessly
And we can lose all the pain and misery(I hope)
I hope
Oh Rosie
Her man he gets too rough
And all she can say
Is he’s a good man he don’t mean no harm
He was just brought up that way
But our children are watching us
They put their trust in us
They’re gonna be like us
It’s ok for us to disagree
We can work it out lovingly(I hope)
More love, more joy and laughter(I hope)
You’ll have more than you’ll ever need(I hope)
You’ll have more happy ever afters(I hope)
And you can all live more fearlessly
And you can lose all your pain and misery(I hope)I hopeT
here must be a way
To change what’s going on
No I don’t have all the answers
But I hope(I hope)
For more love, more joy and laughter(I hope)
You’ll have more than you’ll ever need(I hope)
You’ll have more happy ever afters(I hope)
And we can all live more fearlessly
And we can lose all the pain and misery(I hope)I hope
And we can lose all the pain and misery

Illustration Friday--Sorry

2006-05-21T21:31:00.000-05:00

I think women apologize too much. Or maybe it's just me. I've apologized to people who ran into me, who cut me off, and who interrupted me. I've apologized when I knew I was right and to avoid conflict or hurt. It's instinctive. I can't seem to help it. I don't think I'm alone, though, as I've heard plenty of other women do the same thing. It begins to feel that we're apologizing for existing and I hate that it's become so ingrained in me, it's automatic. So I'm adopting a new motto and I'm asking for others to join me. Let's stop living under the tyranny of apologizing.

Life Repeats Itself

2006-05-19T07:02:00.000-05:00

My heart hurts this morning, both for me and for Ali. We too often find ourselves caring too much for other people, worrying about their feelings and making most decisions based on how we're going to affect those we love--or even just like. Sometimes this is good. Sometimes it's not. Last night, it wasn't and we were both hurt in different ways as a result. Darvin gets furious with me when I don't take care of myself in my relationships and I don't blame him. I get angry, too. I seem to only make small progress in knowing when it's time to let go. It's hard watching Ali do the same things and feeling helpless to do anything about it other than to understand what she's going through.

Illustration Friday--Angels & Devils

2006-05-13T19:08:00.000-05:00

Illustration Friday--Fat

2006-05-05T18:55:00.000-05:00

FAQ

2006-05-05T09:48:00.000-05:00

I've come to realize that this is a question that is frequently asked, no matter what your age. The answers may vary--and for me it sometimes seems they vary hourly--but the question is always there.

Fixation

2006-05-02T16:18:00.000-05:00

Um. Yes. It's possible that I've been listening to the Rent soundtrack again.

BUT. . . I'm also completely digging both the Dixie Chicks and Nickel Creek.

Friendship

2006-05-02T16:10:00.000-05:00

Sometimes it's the little things that put you over the edge.

And Now for Something Completely Different. . .

2006-05-02T12:26:00.000-05:00

We take a break from our regularly scheduled menu of art and random thoughts to save the Internet . . .

If you would like to maintain web neutrality and ensure that we can continue to usethe Internet freely, (and by "freely" I mean both, without paying and with access to ALL sites), then:

Educate yourself.

Sign the petition.

Call Congress.

Add "Save the Internet" to your blog.

Blog about it.

Tell everyone you know.

Illustration Friday--Under the Sea

2006-04-29T23:34:00.000-05:00

I'll Cover You from Rent on the i-pod . . . a little addictive. . .

With You

2006-04-29T23:29:00.000-05:00

When You Can't Take It Anymore. . .

2006-04-25T21:10:00.000-05:00

Sick of . . .

2006-04-25T20:34:00.000-05:00

. . . worrying about things. . . like Jess's graduation party . . . paying for college. . . work and can it get done . . . and what if it dries up. . . and my complete lack of willpower for exercise and diet . . . and the fact that I feel dried up and brittle creatively (too much work) . . . and the list goes on . . . and it's all just stupid shit anyway. . .

Scarily Prescient

2006-04-14T15:42:00.000-05:00

"When facisim comes to America, it will be wrapped in a flag and carrying the cross."

--Sinclair Lewis

Illustration Friday--Spotted OR Why Darvin and I Can't Both Work from Home

2006-04-13T20:38:00.000-05:00

Darvin: I really hate your "professional laugh."

Me: Um. OK.

Darvin: Yeah, it sounds really fake. Like today when you were talking to the Ambassador of Fun.

(I kid you not. I had a business call today with a man who bills himself as the "Ambassador of Fun")

Me: That's not really my professional laugh. That was my fake laugh. So that's why it sounded fake.

Darvin: (slight pause) And why do you talk so LOUD on the phone? I can sometimes hear you in the hall when I'm getting off the elevator!

Me: Sometimes I'm on speaker phone. Anything else?

Darvin: I don't like it when you flirt, either.

Me:I think it would be a bad idea for us to both work from home.

**************************************Update******************

Went to IF this morning and "Spotted" is the word of the week. Kind of weird that I put this up last night. But this synchronicity happens sometimes.

A Doll's Life

2006-04-10T06:16:00.000-05:00

I Will Cut You

2006-04-09T19:55:00.000-05:00

Vacant

2006-04-09T19:46:00.000-05:00

Working in a new journal tonight. I went to Pearl today and got several different sizes. One of them will be for notes on the new business I'm considering. I want to combine my career planning background--helping people figure out what they want to be when they grow up--with some more creative, artistic approaches to figuring it all out. I get a huge amount of satisfaction out of helping people get really clear about who they are and what they want from life. Hearing someone say to me, "You've changed my life," is what I live for. Unfortunately, it hasn't happened much lately, so something must definitely be done.

Why I Love My Husband

2006-04-07T14:25:00.000-05:00

He just sent me an e-mail that said:

One of the most important things we’ve done for each other is to provide a loving, supportive environment for the other to explore and grow in the ways that our souls needed to.

I agree completely.

Broken

2006-04-06T21:54:00.000-05:00

One of the things I love about Darvin is how he's given me back my creativity. Three years ago when we met, I was working through a lot of things and poetry really saved me. One that I wrote was this:

Broken
I am,
like a shattered glass,
brittle brilliant shards of me,
glinting, shiny.
I will cut you.

Broken
I say,
like a car that won’t go,
all promise and no action,
running on empty.
I’m an unreliable ride.

Broken
I told you,
like the promises we made
to our children,
to our lovers.
Good intentions:
“I’ll protect you.”
“You can count on me.”
the lies we told ourselves
and them.

Broken
I am,
I say,
I told you.

Why couldn’t you hear me?

It was a warning to him, of course, but fortunately he didn't listen. Instead, he held and comforted me and helped me put the pieces back together. These days it's harder to relate to these feelings as I once did, although I never forget that they are inside me. Sometimes it's good to take them out and look at them for awhile, if only to remind me of how far I've come.

I want to rock your Gypsy Soul. . .

2006-04-06T20:08:00.000-05:00

For some reason, Van Morrison's "Into the Mystic" has taken over my brain. I get like this--a little obsessive . . . so I'll just play it about 100 times until I can't take it anymore. I'm only on the 4th run through, so a little ways to go . . .

We were born before the wind
Also younger than the sun
Ere the bonnie boat was won as we sailed into the mystic
Hark, now hear the sailors cry
Smell the sea and feel the sky
Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic
And when that fog horn blows I will be coming home
And when that fog horn blows I want to hear it
I don’t have to fear it
I want to rock your gypsy soul
Just like way back in the days of old
Then magnificently we will float into the mystic
And when that fog horn blows you know I will be coming home
And when that fog horn whistle blows I want to hear it
I don’t have to fear it
I want to rock your gypsy soul
Just like way back in the days of old
And together we will float into the mystic
Come on girl...

Illustration Friday--Spring Again

2006-04-04T20:09:00.000-05:00

Making up for a lack of monsters and feet for Illustration Friday recently.

True Lies

2006-04-04T18:29:00.000-05:00

Since Darvin and I met three years ago, we've had a running discussion about the nature of women, with him insisting that men can be as mistreated as women in relationships. So, for Darvin, an homage to the Black Widow.

Her pig nose frightened the children so she pretended she was a poorly drawn cartoon.

2006-04-03T20:36:00.000-05:00

I'm coming to terms with the fact that I cannot draw noses for shit. Seriously. I try, but I just can't seem to get them right. When I do, it's a mistake of the pen that I can't recreate. So at least I can make fun of myself.

Illustration Friday--Spring

2006-04-02T20:37:00.000-05:00

It goes without saying that Persephone's return from the Underworld would be my favorite spring story.

They Grow Up

2006-04-02T17:51:00.000-05:00

I love how sometimes you can look into someone's eyes and see their baby self, hidden away inside. It feels like a gift to me, that they're willing to show it. I'm not always sure that they know they have, but when they do, my heart melts.

Desire 2

2006-04-02T10:59:00.000-05:00

Escape

2006-04-02T10:57:00.000-05:00

With Darvin, I never feel this way. I think a lot of other women do, though.

She's Vicious

2006-04-01T22:41:00.000-05:00

The quote is from my husband, a man who loves a vicious woman.

"What Are You Doing Here"

2006-03-31T15:58:00.000-05:00

I'm in a bit of a career quandry. My heart is telling me one thing, my brain another. I see where this administration is headed and for poor people and working people, there's no safe haven. So I begin to question how much good I can do consulting to the government when the government isn't interested in my brand of helping people. But a switch is scary too because is ANYONE interested in my brand of helping people?

A Creative Outlet

2006-03-19T00:44:00.000-05:00

I've taken over the dining room. One end houses my desk and all of my work stuff--my computer, my files, my books and binders for all of that left brain crap I have to do. Across the (small) room is our round dining room table. Most of the time it's covered with paper, paint, small bits of paper, gesso, gel medium. Tonight, there's a large canvas in the middle of all of it that I've been working for a few weeks now. Eventually I'll get it where I want it. I'm not sure when, though.

This relatively small room houses my creativity. Connected to both the kitchen and the living room, it's smack in the middle of our apartment, a faithful recreation of my brain in a single space. I'm grateful for it, as I'm grateful for my husband, my daughters, the good life I'm building for myself.

Strange Bedfellows

2006-03-18T22:59:00.000-05:00

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire and Audrey Kawaski make strange bedfellows. Apparently it was a combo of Harry's Merpeople and Audrey's paintings that inspired this, although I can't say exactly how that happened. It may have also been the salsa and chips.

Family Life

2006-03-18T18:55:00.000-05:00

A sort of Dorian Gray approach to family dysfunction. I kind of like the idea that family freakiness could be revealed in a portrait. No more hiding for those who would have the world believe that they are "perfect."

Sloganizing

2006-03-15T10:07:00.000-05:00

This was fun.

I liked:

"Accidental Artist Just Feels Right"

"The Too Good to Hurry Accidental Artist"

"There's Only One Accidental Artist"

"Live in Your Accidental Artist. We'll Play in Ours."

And probably what I loved most was the fact that every time I went to the random mode, they had a fun word like "depression," "sadness" or "death" as in "Nothing Comes Between Me and My Death." Now THAT's the truth.

Untitled II

2006-03-14T20:34:00.000-05:00

I really like how this one turned out. It's one of those pieces that came together as though I'd actually planned it.

The Artistic Life

2006-03-14T10:53:00.000-05:00

Something that I want to examine more thoroughly, as I know that fear of all kinds has ruled my life and in some cases, continues to rule it. Pixie posted something really powerful here.

**************************************
I've been working on a large mixed media canvas for a few weeks now. I'm still not happy with how it's turning out so there are many layers of paper, paint and gesso. What's beginning to emerge, though, is a plan to create a self-portrait through quotes. I'm into words as much as art (how many of my pieces end up with a caption?!), so it occurs to me that it's through both the pictures and the words that things will emerge. It also feels right that there would be so many layers of mistakes and attempts to cover up what looks "wrong" about the piece, as I've done that so often in my life, too. So we'll see how it goes. . .
**************************************************

And OH how I love The New Yorker and Jack Handey with his ideas for paintings. With this, I will never have to worry again about lack of inspiration. (Thanks to Cat)

May Not Look

2006-03-13T20:38:00.000-05:00

Telling me that I "may not look," is like begging me to peek. . .

The girls and I were talking in the car the other day. One of their friends babysat for a teacher and "discovered" a Halloween porn tape in the VCR. We briefly discussed how uncomfortable it was for the friend to now be around the teacher (yeah, I'll bet!) and then started talking about snooping through people's houses when you babysit for them. I had to admit that when I was a kid, I often would go through the parents' bedroom, hunting for anything that would tell me who these people were. I was fascinated by the finds, but it also made me a little squeamish when they came home. Did I really want to know that the Dad had piles of Hustlers next to the bed and the wife had some major lingerie? Yes and no.

Anyway. . . this was why I was often uncomfortable with babysitters when the girls were younger. Not because we had anything to hide, but just because I didn't like the idea of people going through my things.

I wonder how many other people snooped when they babysat?

She Wondered

2006-03-13T20:20:00.000-05:00

I think about this a lot--whether or not we ever really know who we are. I feel like so many different people at once. And it feels like I'm always rediscovering myself. I'll write things in my journal and what I've discovered will be an epiphany. Then I'll read old journals and see that I had a similar realization a year ago. I haven't figured out if I'm just deepening my knowledge of myself every time I have one of these or if I'm just getting old.

Illustration Friday--Tattoo II

2006-03-12T14:45:00.000-05:00

Not quite sure where this one came from, but sometimes we just don't know. . .

Illustration Friday--Tattoo

2006-03-12T12:59:00.000-05:00

This is an old piece, but in looking through my files for something, it seemed a perfect illustration for this week's topic. I was always struck by the scars (a form of tattooing) on the man's face. If you look closely at the shape of the cut-out for the woman, you can see that it's a couple standing together, which for me was emblematic of the ways in which slavery tore families apart. The image of the boat actually shows how slave ship owners could pack more people into the hold of a ship. Not unlike how we pack people into the ghetto now.

2006-03-10T21:19:00.000-05:00

I'm Wild

2006-03-10T20:23:00.000-05:00

I was going to do my usual, put some words to the music here, but then I decided I'd go nuts. I'm writing nothing. Figure out for yourselves why the look of surprise.

Thanks for the Memories

2006-03-10T13:00:00.000-05:00

I've spent the past three years trying to make sure that my separation and divorce had minimal impact on my co-parenting with my Ex. Despite the fact that he often makes unilateral decisions and is an extremely poor communicator, I've hung in there in trying to support his decisions when it comes to the kids. There have been times when they've complained to me and I've wanted to say "Now WHY would he do something that fucking stupid?" but I try very hard to bite those words back and to not say them. I believe that as parents, we need to, as much as possible, maintain a united front and not let the divorce get in the way of us being effective parents.

So last night, our younger daughter called me to complain that her dad had grounded her for cursing at her sister. She wanted me to come pick her up. I told her that I would NOT do that and that if she had a problem with her father, she needed to work it out with him. I spent several minutes suggesting ways for her to be more productive in her conversations with her father, during which she told me that she "hates me," that I'm "not on her side," and that she's tired of me always "sticking up" for her dad. I laughed it off and kept working with her. Ultimately I ended the conversation by telling her that my suggestion was that she try to talk to her father but if she didn't want to do that, then she needed to just hang out in her room.

This morning, I receive an e-mail from The Ex telling me that he would appreciate it if in the future when my daughter calls to complain, I support him and not tell her that I'll come pick her up.

WHAT??!!

Apparently she told him that I said that I WOULD come and get her because they were having problems--and the asshole believed her!

Naturally I e-mailed back that I would not undermine him in this way and that I've gone out of my way to NOT do that to him. I didn't even get an apology--which is what is now seriously pissing me off even more than his assumption that I would do such a thing.

As Darvin said, despite three years of hard work on my part, The Ex continues to invalidate me as a parent and to feel that it's OK for him to reprimand me based on the word of CHILDREN.

I'm really pissed right now, even though I shouldn't let it get to me. . . .

The Party III

2006-03-07T21:37:00.000-05:00

The Party II

2006-03-07T21:35:00.000-05:00

The Party I

2006-03-07T21:28:00.000-05:00

Strange Fascination

2006-03-05T17:33:00.000-05:00

I like pieces of faces. That is, I like how it looks when I cut something out, accidentally leaving a portion of a drawing on the other side of the paper. I also like the serendipity of collaging small pieces of found paper. Sometimes this works better than others. This is one of the times I liked how it turned out.

Vacation Pics

2006-03-05T17:27:00.000-05:00

The vacation photos proved that their paranoia was not entirely unfounded.

How My Husband's Brain Works

2006-03-05T17:24:00.000-05:00

Darvin: "Do you ever worry that you're painting ghosts?"

Me: "What do you mean?"

Darvin: "Well, all of your faces have such haunted eyes. What if you're drawing ghosts?"

What if I am?

Forgotten Life

2006-03-05T10:47:00.000-05:00

Lately I'm bothered by the women I know who have lost themselves in the process of having careers, husbands and families. When I suggest that perhaps it would be good for them to put themselves first for a while, they have one of two responses. Either they sigh longingly and agree before launching into all the reasons why this isn't possible. Or they look at me as though I've suggested that they throw their children to the wolves.

I'm bothered, too, by how the number one priority is ALWAYS their children. ALWAYS. Even when their children are in high school or college. Work comes next. And then their spouses. And then their own interests. Friends are somewhere in there, too, but like when we were in high school and boyfriends trumped girls' nights, friends can be thrown aside for the demands of either children or careers. Oddly, not for the demands of a husband though.

These seem like some really fucked up priorities in a way. How are we supposed to be able to give to other people when our own wells are empty? And why do our children come before our relationships with ourselves, our partners and our friends? When did we become so retro? And WHY, I have to ask too.

I understand why children come first when their younger. Hell, it's hard to put anyone or anything in front of them because they simply won't allow it. But as they get older, it seems that as mothers we should be pulling away a little, letting them venture out on their own. And that we should be looking back into ourselves, reclaiming who we were before we became "Jessica's mom." To me, it seems we should be looking at what we need to reconnect with ourselves and with our partners and friends. These are the things that are there long after our children have moved on to their own lives and concerns.

There are just so many things about all of this that bug me. I want to shake these women and say "MY GOD, do something besides drift toward irrelevancy in your children's lives." But no one seems to want to listen. I think they're afraid of what they would do instead.

2006-02-28T20:51:00.000-05:00

I taught a class today on using career assessments. During the class I was talking about how several years ago I spent the weekend assessing myself and coming up with my mission statement for what I wanted to do with my life. By the end of the weekend I'd made the decision to quit (which I did that Monday) and to start doing training on my own. Now, 8 years later, I'm making triple my previous income, work from home most of the time and have had the freedom to decide to work primarily on those projects I really enjoy. I believe that it's because I figured out what I wanted to do, got very clear about it, and then put my intentions into the universe.

After the training was over, a woman came up to me and asked if I ever do weekend retreats to help other people do what I did. She talked about how her daughter was leaving for college and how she wasn't sure where she wanted to go next. It was weird that she said this because as I'd been talking about my experiences, what popped into my head was how much I would love to help other people do what I did. . . . so now I'm wondering if once again I'm being told what I need to do with my life . . . like when I was trying to decide if I should leave my ex and I found the most amazing apartment in the world. I knew then that it was a sign. I'm wondering if this is another one.

Choices

2006-02-27T19:33:00.000-05:00

Am I the only person in the world who simultaneously feels trapped by a lack of choices, but at the same time trapped in having too many of them?

2006-02-27T19:23:00.000-05:00

When I first moved out, I explored the idea of joining a Unitarian Church up the street from us. One Sunday morning the girls and I strolled up to check it out and I picked up a pamphlet on "white privilege." As one woman has described it:

"I have come to see white privilege as an invisible package of unearned assets that I can count on cashing in each day, but about which I was "meant" to remain oblivious. White privilege is like an invisible weightless knapsack of special provisions, maps, passports, codebooks, visas, clothes, tools , and blank checks."

Being married now to a Black man I'm more acutely aware of how I can take my whiteness for granted. Particularly my middle class, college-educated, well-fed whiteness. The depth of my obliviousness to the privileges conferred on me by my race is disturbing at times. I'm glad for a life where I'm forced to confront and recognize these things in myself. But I'm bothered by the implications for my husband, his son and for every other Black person in this country who simply cannot take the same things for granted.

Naked

2006-02-25T10:28:00.000-05:00

I love this magazine. The coolest art . . .

Yesterday I told Christine that I believe my mission in life is to be the woman who is constantly crying "The Emperor has NO CLOTHES!" Those of us with this life purpose are a small group, hated and reviled by those who would prefer to tell themselves that the Emperor is dressed. I take pride in this role, however. I want to see what lurks beneath so that others can be warned.

Fear

2006-02-24T20:05:00.000-05:00

Dwelling on Dreams

2006-02-19T20:56:00.000-05:00

I've been guilty of this, dwelling on dreams and the future (or worst, the past), and forgetting to enjoy where I am right now. I've had a few times in my life when I knew enough to stop and tell myself to savor where I was--the last semester of my senior year in college, during certain moments with my daughters, and this past October when I got married again. That was a night that was amazing on so many levels and I'm so glad I knew enough to realize it and enjoy every second.

2006-02-19T20:52:00.000-05:00

I'm always saddened by people who are afraid to live life passionately. Sometimes I fall into that category, but I have a husband who reminds me daily of the many ways in which we can live our lives enjoying the fullness of our desires.

Illustration Friday--Song

2006-02-18T22:01:00.000-05:00

Attraction is a mysterious thing. What makes my heart sing makes another person's heart groan. Sometimes people know immediately why you love someone. Sometimes you are the one to see past all of the things others can't, straight into your lover's heart. I prefer the latter. In that way, I get to hold a delicious secret that no one can fathom. I've seen to the soul and it's wonderful.

Untitled

2006-02-18T21:57:00.000-05:00

How do people come up with titles for their work? I've come to understand why the most popular title is "untitled."

Unexpected

2006-02-16T21:20:00.000-05:00

Alone

2006-02-16T21:19:00.000-05:00

Chet & Jean

2006-02-16T21:09:00.000-05:00

. Chet and Jean's marriage had passed the 20-year mark and was now moving toward eternity.

Escape Artist

2006-02-16T19:47:00.000-05:00

Sometimes I realize--as if I never knew it before--that we all die. And that we're fortunate if we
do it in old age. Even those people who are good at avoiding anything important will have to experience death. Sometimes it's comforting to know this, like picturing the people who intimidate you without their clothes on. We're all equal in the end.

Heaped Up Heart

2006-02-11T15:09:00.000-05:00

“I love you, not only for what you are, but for what I am when I am with you. I love you, not only for what you have made of yourself, but for what you are making of me. I love you, for the part of me that you bring out. I love you, for putting your hand into my heaped-up heart, and passing over all the foolish, weak things that you can’t help dimly seeing there, and for drawing out, into the light, all the beautiful belongings that no one else had looked quite far enough to find. I love you, because you are helping me to make of the lumber of my life, not a tavern, but a temple. Out of the works of my every day, not a reproach, but a song. I love you, because you have done more than any creed could have done to make me good, and more than any fate could have done to make me happy. You have done it without a touch, without a word, without a sign. You have done it by being yourself."

Yearning

2006-02-11T12:21:00.000-05:00

When I was going through my divorce a few years ago, one of the most difficult issues for me to face was the realization that I was in a marriage that killed something very essential in me. He was a decent man, good with our children and a "provider," but being married to him was death by a thousand negations. He wanted less of everything about me and as I gave it to him--for years--I felt myself fading away until I was just a shadow of who I'd been. I even became physically less, whittling my body to virtually nothing.

Not long after we separated, I met the man who's now my husband. One of the most amazing things about him was his desire for more of me--more of my intensity, my "strangeness," my soul. He even wanted more of me physically. Not just in a sexual sense, but in a literal way. He wanted more flesh on my bones, a lush softness into which he could sink at the end of the day.

I know so many women like Jean. They are willing to become less of themselves and are afraid of what lies ahead if they refuse to accept that path. I'm just grateful that I had the courage to choose something different for myself.

Tested

2006-02-11T12:16:00.000-05:00

Illustration Friday--Simplicity

2006-02-10T22:17:00.000-05:00

Truth to Power

2006-02-09T06:24:00.000-05:00

"We know now there were no weapons of mass destruction over there. But Coretta knew and we knew that there are weapons of misdirection right down here. Millions without health insurance. Poverty abounds. For war, billions more, but no more for the poor."

Say it, Reverend Lowery.

Alter Ego

2006-02-08T09:24:00.000-05:00

I had lunch yesterday with Leona who has worried since Christmas that there's something wrong with me. I reassured her that it was nothing more than the usual Wellbutrin-controlled demons who lurk always beneath the surface. Darvin is used to them, knowing that they come out at odd times, no rhyme or reason that we can see, but others are not. I've come to terms with my need for medication and a certain kind of living environment that accepts periodic forays into darkness as a part of the package. It jars me, though, when I think that I have things under control and others see what lie beneath.

Decorum

2006-02-08T09:12:00.000-05:00

There are women of a certain type who have the power to intimidate me. Not in my work life, where I feel strong and competent, but in the more personal realms. It may go back to my grandmother and her notions of "femininity." While she was a kind, gentle woman, she was iron-willed when it came to "proper" behavior. As a child, I strove to be that person, but as an adult, I'm known as the woman who always takes things a step too far. I try to appreciate this quality in myself, but all it takes is a certain look from a woman like Evelyn and I'm 5 years old again. Do we ever stop going back to childhood?

Obsession

2006-02-05T21:51:00.000-05:00

I seem obsessed with faces. They're all I draw. I'm not sure why. They're the only things that seem to interest me right now, as though I can figure out the world in an expression.

Hatched

2006-02-05T17:48:00.000-05:00

Childhood

2006-02-02T21:45:00.000-05:00

The State of the Union

2006-02-02T21:43:00.000-05:00

When did we stop caring about everyone but the wealthiest among us?

Guilt

2006-01-29T21:37:00.000-05:00