Small interludes, veering from place to place and mood to mood, unable to truly connect, and finding momentary peace in pews with a coffee mug in hand and in front of canvas, coloring in shapes, wondering why I keep returning to the same shades when I want something different. Maybe it was the glass of wine that had me admit to a table of relatives that sometimes I feel like I'm stuck, not that I mind where I'm at, but it's that sense of never being able to transcend it that is starting to sink in, while wondering if it even matters.
It's where I'm at I guess, wondering why if the feeling of being in a rut is just a feeling or if it's truth. It's not that I liked it when everything was changing and in a state slightly more organized than total chaos, but the routine, the structures immovable, something about it is getting to me.
Some talk of moving, of starting over, but one can't undo what's been done, unhappiness is as natural occurrence here as anywhere, things left behind will inevitably recur because no matter where you go, you bring with it who you are, for better or worse. Maybe I'm jealous that I'm too rooted and afraid. I don't know.
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7 comments:
no way to calculate these things just have to try and pay close attention to what/who speaks to your heart and what doesn't and then work from there. This life is very hard and we all find ways to make it harder but with attention and care you will find your way through if not out. peace be with you
If only you'd have tried the burnt siena or the neon blue, you wouldn't be having these problems.
Copping out an answer, I'd say it can be both; the rut feeds on itself, and no matter how distended this ouroboros gets, it continues until it explodes (and who knows when that is) or until you cut yourself out.
Boy, that was helpful.
dmf,
thanks, you also!
Randal,
yep that bright blue did not belong in the painting, which you haven't seen, so it's a bit creepy that you know this.
I knew calling that Psychic Friends hotline would finally pay off.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?feature=player_embedded&v=BZnDt2wEFjk#!
Sometimes I find myself most comfortable with the shades drawn, curled up on the floor of a dark closet, and the only thing that will allow me to see the beauty of the light, of something different - no matter what it is - is to run quickly to the roof with my eyes closed, open wide, and leap.
Um, that's all figurative, of course.
http://bloggingheads.tv/diavlogs/38345
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