I am finally allowing myself to feel some pretty intense feelings I have been having – denying.

I just did an art show where people were given permission to anonymously sweep things under the rug that they sweep under the rug in their lives. Everything I sweep under the rug was under there. I didn’t write one. yet, they are universal. all of my own fears, anxieties, secrets, wishes etc. they were there. I let them all go. they have been released and I have moved forward now. I know myself better and I am not afraid to be that person. I am alright.

Since I have given myself the permission to feel these feelings I was not acknowledging before, I almost feel knocked out. I feel like I lost the fight, but at least it’s over now. The relief I feel here can’t be understated but still the waves keep pushing me under. My heart is opening. It feels so weird to write this out… like I’m still the cynic somewhere, saying, really? Really? and laughing. but it’s true.

I opened the dam and all of it is blowing me apart, in the best way possible, don’t get me wrong. To allow it to come through is a freedom in and of itself that I’ve denied myself for months.

To be able to straight up say it out loud – freeing.

Just to allow myself the right to these feelings I never thought I would get is amazing. humbling. I want to bow down to the universe in thanks.

and to all the things I’ve lost to get here. I have lost so much. It really doesn’t feel so empty, it feels like a giant palace with space to hear and see and fill with friends.

Please, Universe, Please stop giving me what I ask for if it isn’t the right thing in the right moment for my own good. It always comes but I never anticipate what it will do to me or if it is right – lessons yes, I want to move through learning and feeling and opening to every good experience that is right for me, perfect even. The problem is I don’t know what is right for me… CLEARLY! so, instead. I am begging, crying – put me where I am supposed to be. Put me where I can be guided to follow the path to the universal blessings that are mine – when I am not too busy telling ‘you’ what they are.. it’s obvious now. I have no fucking clue what I’m doing here! I know I’m one lucky mofo artist whose been blessed with every beautiful touch and vision that I could be strong enough to handle. I am ready! WHO AM I?

thank you.

I get everything I ask for. I know. It’s powerful stuff. I know i know.. i know. I want to be in the flow of the Love channel if I could please. The real deal. the open conduit for what IS what is mine, what is my gift what is mine to give, receive and

I have been asking myself this question for what seems like years now.

What do I want? Love

What do I want? coffee

What do I want? you

What do I want? art

What do I want? books

What do I want? company

What do I want? space

What do I want? joy

What do I want? to breathe

What do I want? to wipe down the counters

What do I want? the smell of orange blossoms

What do I want? adoration

What do I want? to adore

What do I want? to cook with true friends

What do I want? my children to grow up and be interesting and funny people I want to have dinner with

What do I want?  a long drive with good music and your hand on my thigh

What do I want? to make myself  into who I am

What do I want? to help

What do I want? to say your name out loud and have it feel like sweetness

What do I want? to let it all go

What do I want? to be safely caught at the bottom of this fall

What do I want? my truth

What do I want? to hear your truth

What do I want? to make up pleasing bedtime stories for my kids

What do I want? wine and cheese

What do I want? time

What do I want? to have all the answers always

What do I want? authenticity

What do I want? to want the right things

What do I want? to accept what I want…..

What do I want? spaghetti with homemade meatballs and sauce

What do I want? to give more but not become a martyr

What do I want? an allowance

What do I want? to evolve

What do I want? for my skin to burn for your touch

What do I want? to take it to the next level

What do I want? to bandage your wounds

What do I want? to bring you tea

What do I want? to bow at your feet

What do I want? to cry

What do I want? soft sheets

What do I want? more wine with friends

What do I want? to know what I cannot know

What do I want? to move through this with grace

 

What is disappointment?

An opportunity for development.

I was invested in an outcome that didn’t come about. To let go of those expectations is so effin’ hard though. We want to reach goals, perfection maybe… and when we can’t or don’t or it just doesn’t work out, it’s crushing sometimes. I know there are times I want to give up and maybe that is the right course of action, throw in the towel. yell “I give up” I know there is so little I really have control over anymore. I can only barely control me and my take on things. SO, why bother with disappointment? Right now it is serving to show me how passionate I am about certain things. I would not be so disappointed if I weren’t so invested.   I think there are things that I have been disappointed about for decades. I need to get out of my own way again here and acknowledge the passion I have realize where it comes from, redirect it up and step back and see the feelings, feel sorrow and let it wash over me, through me, and away from me.

if you ask

(words about this  new work)

breathe no. … no Quietly No- quietly not for you quietly not about you but, about you. it is me –     about me . in your presence. seen  and feeling seen. you see, you see me. you see me if you see me, but  .you.  won’t ask me

if you have read up until now, things are about to abruptly change and forgive the spelling errors.
up until now, I have been at least I thought, appropriate.
well, I guess it doesn’t maybe serve me well

I have these smart ass responses in my head lately that I need to get out
like: happy people don’t need post it notes all over their houses telling them how happy they are
epiphany #1
and #2 if you are asking the Universe for a sign, maybe it’s over the door reading E X I T.
seriously

My head is pounding from crying for the past two hours over slights, real, or imagined, or both. Aren’t they both real in your own head anyway?

wondering, why didn’t I have the balls to say something in the moments? why didn’t I?

what is wrong with me?

WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME?
why do people think it’s okay to talk to me a certain way? (because I let them)
why don’t I stand up for myself? (because I am afraid they won’t like me)

when we reveal ourselves, why is it that what we think we have revealed and what was ultimately understood are so disparate that we stand alone even after all that effort toward closeness?
and wondering? how could you know me so little? how could i have revealed so very much and be so little understood? how is it possible that you think I am that person that I do not know?
I struggle to become.
So, now I feel like asking. Tear me down. Tear me down until I am NO Thing. NOTHING. Non existent.
without feature. then.
then. I can choose which features I need
which serve me and which do not.
I can let go of all this insecurity and fear and oppression
i can start

and not be so beholden to anyone

why don’t I stand for anything?

I feel like the worst failure. Like someday, my kids will say, “why did you have me?” and I will have to answer.
and their response will be, no doubt, “I wish I’d never been born” because they will hate me.
or if I can change “fate” they won’t

{I wish there were words for what’s going on right now. I’m trying to look at the bright side and find the silver lining and all that b.s. but it’s just not happening unfortunately. I keep thinking, someday, we’ll look back on this time and think it was not so bad. It was just character building, humbling, made us closer as a family. or. I will wish I never brought these little people who rely on me into this world because I have failed them.

I am starting to see that as parents we have no choice but to just do the best we can, in the moments we are in with the tools we have.  Maybe my perfectionist nature is what always makes me think things could be so much better than this all the time. I don’t know if there is a ‘good enough’ for me. I keep trying to see it from their perspective and to provide them the experience they have had for so many years now of me being here for them.

I feel so much pain inside, but the realization that I will have to be the primary breadwinner is not something I want to come to terms with on so many levels. I have been here too many times in the past seven years. Promises that start of with right action and end in trailed off incompletion. I get hopeful and it turns on me to where I wish I had not let myself get so vulnerable again.  I have to be so much stronger to turn off something inside me that will let me be that provider. Everytime I think about it I cry. I worry that someday they will say that I wasn’t there or didn’t care. They won’t see that it is because I cared that I did what I did.

I have time with the kids now and I just feel like I am looking in a window of what raising them everyday should be.

I never thought it would be so painful to be away from the kids. Hell, I didn’t even want children.

I just keep thinking of the childhood I want them to have and if I’m working full time, it takes so much of that away from them.  If I don’t work full time I take away the stability that I could otherwise be providing.

and now. there is a new dream, a new vision, a new promise.

Do I believe again? Do I wait and keep pushing and pulling and balancing. All the while saying this time will be different.

I want to believe. I know it all comes from LOVE why can’t that be enough?

So, maybe they won’t  hate me- but who do they see me as? someone who does what they hate because it is the right thing to do even if it is detrimental to myself because my job is not to my self but to others – I might pay for them with my ‘self’ until my ‘self’ ceases to exist.
or conversely, to be so selfish that I satisfy my own needs but cease to see theirs as any sort of priority. much less, corollary to my own throbbing with creative juices.

why did I choose this path? why did they choose me? why don’t I quit, out the exit, and walk on all of it?

LOVE

I try. I cry. and I go through motions praying feeling comes back to extremities of heart, mind etc in time. days. months. years….

shiner

I’ve been away from here and that is not because I haven’t been documenting life with words, just not for public consumption.

But, I am trying to make space to breathe and like the title of this, get out of my own way. To make clear the path.

I have learned that grad school, which I finished 10 years ago, didn’t make me hate art. It made me hate talking about it, writing about it and understanding it in a verbal language that I don’t think in. I think in a visual language and one of actions. Now art and Art need to come back from their exile. Art, photography specifically, used to be my religion, my air that I breathed, my lover, my way of experiencing life and understanding it. I will probably never be a photographer again. But… I will take pictures. Also, I realize that as an artist, nothing is wasted, no experience is without value. Everything I have done, creatively and otherwise will inform every creative expression I have yet to be given.  That reassures me. I am not starting over only continuing down my present path.

So, in that spirit, I am seriously giving up on words. I am jealous of those who can turn out words that others find themselves in, I can’t. I choke and have to close the computer upon reading them sometimes, feeling I am invading a found journal and must close it, not being worthy of those secrets.

Here is a start even though these were taken with my phone.

It sucks -especially b/c it’s of my kid’s installation of paper umbrellas which is great though the photos aren’t. but it’s a beginning and end to this past decade.

edited3/20/2010 – I’ve been working on it.

time in a cleaned out studio / where I can actually work

breakfast with someone who likes breakfast and maybe even drinks coffee

an art show that moves me

big luscious paintings

beer and guacamole at midnight in the quiet of my house after work

driving alone with the music loud

to feel loving and patient with my oldest child

to be a better mom these those days

to understand why all of this is going on

to move through it gracefully