I almost never type on a computer. Well one, I’m horrible at it. And two, I usually need the connection of a thought to my hand, my hand to a pencil, and the pencil to paper. For some reason that process really helps especially because I can write faster than I can type. But here I am on the last day of 2019, listening to the clicking of my fingers to the keys, on a computer. My hopes for 2020 were grand. Way beyond what I am actually capable of. But isn’t that what we all do? And then we feel shitty because we didn’t accomplish any of the enormous requirements that we told ourselves to do. All so we can be better, right? We need better bodies, better health, better personalities, better professions, better relationships, a better newer you. (!!!) When really what we want is more control. More focus. More time to be who we really want to be. Who the hell gets that? What a luxury that would be.
I mean, what am I? It’s a question we rarely get to answer because we are all just trying to survive. When we are in survival mode there is no I. A tiny step above survival mode can get you what we call “a hobby”. This hobby is something that usually feeds a different part of us. Our souls. The part that we really aren’t allowed to explore because we all spend most of our time working for other people. My hobby is drawing and painting. It is an absolute luxury. For 2020 I wanted to make more time for that, for a number of reasons. I need to nourish my soul more and I need to eventually stop breaking my back (my real physical back) for someone else’s benefit. Really what I need is my hobby to provide me a small earning so I can work less hauling around buckets of water for a living. Ok! Goal set!
So...all I want to paint right now is dead things. This presents a number of problems that don’t necessarily align with my new lofty 2020 goals. Yes, I am aware that 2020 hasn’t even started. And yes, I am aware that I am already having doubts about my intentions and what the new year can bring, but can you blame me? I’m starting off the year painting dead plants. And why does everything suddenly become so symbolic on New Years??? Really? I don’t want to give in to that crap. Every day is every day, regardless of what “day” it is. Back to the original point: nobody wants to buy a watercolor card of a dead leaf. That means that I am not achieving my goal and getting nowhere closer to relieving myself from a days work of hauling buckets of water for someone else and breaking my back.
Recently a co-worker asked me when my valentines day card will be coming out. I said, “Soon! I'm really excited about it!”. But that was a lie. I am actually dreading the idea of a valentines day card. It’s a made up celebration we are forced to engage in. It’s not that I don’t believe in love. In fact, that’s all I believe in. I just don’t want it shoved down my throat, or anybody else for that matter. My expression, when it comes out, will be genuine and pure and not forced. Once again, not in line with my 2020 goals. It’s like I almost don’t want to succeed.
We can’t live and thrive without love and support. Something has to love us. Our goldfish, our family, our friends, our plants or our co-workers. In today's world we even need strangers to love us. To “like” things we do. I feel like we as a society are in constant search for being accepted and loved. Where did our nourishment go wrong? Why do we need to constantly prove ourselves worthy? When can we stop? Because frankly, I’m tired. And I love so many things. So many people. So much of my life is based on passion and monetarily it’s gotten me nowhere. Has it satisfied my soul? Do I feel confident and look forward to a new year of new accomplishments? I’m skeptical. Weary at best. Maybe I'm just scared I can't do it. So for now I give you this. This is a dead leaf. I love you.
Welcome. Here is where we can hang out casually. I can show you new work, talk about my process, blah, blah, blah. You can can say nice things!