One of the things about being an artist is that you may well find yourself at times with a pile of work that is incomplete which is known as (WIP) This can be something that is sat on the easel or tucked away behind the cupboard drying out, awaiting some more work. if you are working in oils then it is more of the drying out, which can often take ages. Sometimes a piece just sits there for ages and gets treated like some tiresome task that is always being put off.
Sometimes this tardiness is mistaken for procrastination when it is in fact lack of motivation, a difficulty in getting started and needing a break from that god awful chair downstairs that belongs in a torture museum, it is so uncomfortable even the cats ignore it. actually the chair is only part of the equation, I suspect there is a change in direction in the offing, involving greater preparation and better draughtsmanship. Learning how to draw noses.
The garden and pond site are also in need of attention as is the cloakroom which gets done when the weather is really wet, the pond can only be done properly when the bottom has dried out properly and stops being squelchy, squelchy bottoms do not make for stable solid platforms upon which to work.
I have not been looking after myself of recent, Tonight’s training proved that. Normally I have a high pain threshold,tonight even small blows were agony and halted me in my tracks, I had to stop and surrender to resting and being honest with myself. I have not been sleeping either waking up at ridiculously early times with only 4-5 hours sleep and not being able to go back to sleep. Sometimes I do not sleep at all, or it seems that way.
TBH I have been drinking a little too much of recent without any let up, apart from at work. Today I have had (and still have) the worlds worst hangover. I wake up feeling stiff and sore and my left hand side is wracked with pain when I awaken. I do not want sympathy, I need TLC and plenty of personal care.
I am glad I have found the space to do some writing, as I cannot paint at the moment, maybe from the alcohol or is it the time of year and it all just pisses me off. Xmas is never the best time for me. The whole thing pee’s me off. Probably the lack of sunshine. Maybe a combination of different factors. I ought to perhaps get out and do some gardening, rake up the leaves and get some fresh air in my lungs,having spent more than enough time indoors and very little out of may well be a factor.
In other things, I still have a job. (miracle) And I have gained a little more weight. ( The garden will help deal with that) Today I tidied up the spare room and rigged up the old desktop PC as a backup for the laptop. I shall be posting some artwork soon. A friend of mine recently died, at least she is free from pain and suffering now.
So for the first time in a little while I am finding some time to write, it is important to remember that writing like painting is part of creativity, but does writing take the sting, the tension of painting? I do not know, I feel I am a better painter than a writer but that is because whatever I am writing soon dies a death whereas painting goes on. It’s just the subject matter that changes, painting is my preferred medium of self expression. Perhaps I ought write more.
So what has been going on, not much to be honest, work ‘forgot’ to pay me for two weeks and after 3 days of bad temper and a lot of emotional energy they coughed up, that meant I could feed the cats and get Mr. Ninja his much needed medication and that is all that I wanted to see done.
otherwise I am enjoying work, though I would rather be painting, I guess we cannot have everything, I would rather be working and have money than be painting and have next to nothing. Actually that is a lie I would rather be painting and be wealthy, sod stacking the shelves and checking the dates in those nasty cold fridges that make my nose run and torment my chest, making me cough and wheeze like an asthmatic Walrus.
This cold I have had of recent seems to have affected my chest something chronic and my nose is falling off. I do not like colds and their ilk.
Otherwise apart from work, I do not know who I am where I am going or what I am becoming I do not consider myself Male or for that matter Female. I think I am a human being or am I being Human? I would like it to be known I am a person, an individual.
I would like to be known as Jessica, at least. I shall be posting some artwork very soon.
It is nearly the second week in my new career. I can at least say I am happier than I have been in a long time. Did I say that last time? So what if I did. I managed to drill though a pipe today. (Again) and to top it all the hedge cutter blew up, it gave out a big bang like crack a shot of electric light and the smell of smoke. I think it is now broken.
I miss not being at work, but am enjoying the warm weather and have been doing stuff about the garden. J is doing well, this makes me a lot happier and puts a lot of stresses to bed. I can at least sleep peacefully,even if I do need to get up at some unearthly hour to pee, I am at least sleeping properly.
perhaps I am drinking a little bit to much right now, but a lot less than I used to, Should I drink more tea. The administrator in the office is married to my manager. They are both nice people and I have bruises from training.
Jesus was a black man, anything else is ridiculous.
To bury the dead is one of the corporal acts of mercy.
After 25+ years in a career that drove me up the wall and created such discord and unhappiness, that death would have been a pleasant alternative. (How Ironic) I have started out on a new career.
Today is the first day of the rest of my life and the first day of a career that I hope will see me through and past retirement and into the next life itself. Though that last bit will be someone else’s task. Today was spent, reading, learning and re-reading material and meeting and speaking to nice kind hearted people from whom you can see their inner light shining brighter than the noon day sun.
It takes all sorts to perform the role I have chosen as my end profession. Many stories , many reasons. all united by one common factor. To serve. And as Bob Dylan wrote:
“you gotta serve somebody.”
It is what is known as an honourable profession. And after years of going from pillar to post with a thousand dead ends, I have now found the way to the final RV.
I am lucky in having a very supportive fiance. She says she likes a man in uniform, though I will never be a Policeman and am too old for the army. Instead I now wear a dark suit and tie. I must remember to polish my shoes.