The feeling of self-righteousness crosses my mind before and/or after I tell myself I’m just not pretty enough anymore. At first thought, I do think that I could do it better than some other human out there and those thoughts are often exchanged with my insecurities. At times, I have to say to myself, “Okay, let’s think about this clearly. Is this really something I’d be capable of if I were in their situation?” That usually puts things in perspective for me. And then, with the insecurities I push myself to think something positive about my body or my abilities (which isn’t always easy). It’s about being in a constant state of awareness of my thoughts. I have to be, because the downward spiral is an easy slip. First, I’m content while listening to a talk show on NPR, not paying attention to my thoughts. Then I’m staring into the eyes of a Cheshire cat who’s asking me where I’d like to go. And then, I can’t remember where I even started. Or in other words, I’m no longer conscious. The real world full of daily struggles has slipped beneath me. To be mindful of my thoughts is both humbling and uplifting at the same time. It’s something that’s pretty important to me.
15 more minutes to think
I’ve lost my thought and I need to find it
Just 5 more minutes with my brain
Let me look in the places I’ve forgotten about
If I just think of something else it may come floating back
A soft glow of light just outside my window hums a tune that takes me away for a moment. Under my down comforter I sip from a glass that doesn’t quench and air out all my thoughts that lack depth
A place where rules can be bent and logic defied
where man is winged and birds speak
this is where I write from
and also from my heart
even when it seems meaningless
it is something
it is a piece of me
and I will continue to leave bread crumbs for myself
because for some reason I think I’ll need them
….More at Jayne.Press Writing Like A Writer
There’s construction on the bridge
makes me not want to cross it
even though the construction
is being done underneath
it just slows things down
There must be another way
Who are you when you’re
when that sweat is dripping
from your brow
When your feet are up
on the couch.
Can you define yourself?
Not your hobbies
or your top responsibilities,
but who you are,
between your out-right
“I’m a little purple person,” it whispered in my ear. “I run and frolick and think of the many ways I can return to you. It’s just a matter of getting to you.” It takes ten huge steps away from me, but since it’s so small it doesn’t get more then 3 inches from my face. It sits, crosses it’s legs, and faces me. “In between the spaces is space, my dear poet, it’s space to be filled with memories and love and if you even feel the need, hate.” The little purple person then lays down staring at my popcorn ceiling, and places two arms behind his head. “And if you must know, my dear poet, the space between my maddening choices is balance. Where the imagination runs wild because the madness isn’t present, but it was and it will be. Some call it peace, but I believe, my dear poet,” he faces me now, “it’s best left temporary. Because to grow we must change.” He goes silent and slowly closes his eyes. I study this tiny person. He must be no bigger than my thumb. I roll over and look at my popcorn ceiling. My eyes slowly close. That could be true, it could be true.
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I just wanna snuggle. I wanna wrap my arms around him or make him rub my belly. I just need him close cuz I missed him lots today.
Funny thing about writing is
you do it for yourself to feel better
hoping it might make somebody else
It’s getting the first year classes out of the way that makes school such a drag. I feel like it is clear what basics you really need and what’s about making the school money. Alas, I’ll continue this battle till I find myself snug into a career I love. Speaking of career, according to a career assessment Landscape Architecture is the best fit for me and the second best was School Psychologist. I have never thought of being a Landscape Architect and I’m not a huge fan of math so…. Idk bout that one. But I’ll look into to be sure. If anyone has any insight they’d like to share on either careers I’d greatly appreciate it. 🙂
This summer I slowed down on a lot of my writing. Worked on the screenplay and some poetry here and there but mostly just backed off and you know what? I realized I have been working my booty off the past two years and not realizing it. And not appreciating my own best efforts. Not in a bragging type of way but in a way that made me realize This Is my best effort. And I feel like the artist Eyck reached through time and confirmed that for me.
Above the portrait painted on the frame which isn’t show here (but you can see it here) the words As I can or “Als Ich Can” written in Greek are painted on the frame. Now there are different ways that line has been interpreted. One is that it is simply a self portrait and he is playing on the pun Ich and his last name Eyck.
Another interesting idea is that as I can is coming from part of a motto that scribes would put at the end manuscripts that they have copied. They would write the entire motto “As I can not as I would.” Or in other words this is the best I can do, I wish I can do better. So he dropped I wish I could do better and just wrote As I can or This is the best I can do.
For some of us artists this is a profound realization. Coming to the place where you accept that you are doing your best work and having the ability to appreciate that. I think that this is a portrait of that moment for him. He found his niche his sweet spot. Makes me wonder if he ever looked at sculptures or mathematicians and thought man I wish I could be more them. But learned to find joy in the talents he excelled in. Oil paints, adding depth, and making sure to add the minute details made his work stand out from the rest even to this day. His works evoke feelings, thoughts, curiosity, and even with me his work confirmed that I need to accept my best efforts for my best efforts.