Our anniversary party is gonna be awesome. :o)
Y’know…I’m not gonna name any names or be specific in this comment but a “retrospective” art show is not where an emerging artist puts up all of his or her previously unsold or unseen work. An “emerging” artist could be emerging for like, 10 years but unless their work has been seen and exhibited somewhere (and a website is debatable), it’s not a “retrospective”. A retrospective, and maybe this is just my own definition, I dunno, is when an established artist looks back at his or her oeuvre in a gallery setting (or a website because I still think websites are just as valid as galleries) and you can see the progression of their work throughout the years.
I won’t say what prompted the above paragraph because I don’t want to seem “catty” but I still wanted to put my opinion on the subject out there. Y’know, like, for the record.
Speaking of art, Gwenn Seemel, who I know I’ve posted about before, tweeted this vlog she posted a while back about the secret to being an artist. I thought her theory was pretty interesting and the fact that someone was THAT condescending to her is one of the very many reasons I don’t like leaving the house.
When I was at Steph the Geek’s wedding reception, lined up to get some food, there was this old guy in front of me who was really chatty. He asked what I did for a living and I said I was an artist. Or maybe I said I was a painter. I forget now how he phrased the question but after I answered him, he asked like, “what media?” or something like that and I was caught so off-guard because I don’t really HAVE a media or at least I didn’t really think I did at the time, I’d never given it much thought, so I answered “acrylic?” and he had nothing to say to that so he kinda just turned slowly back around and started talking to the person in front of him. It was really really weird. I felt like I gave the wrong answer, like was he offended that I didn’t say “oil?” Is there some kind of media snobbery I’m not aware of?
Anyway, the answer now would be “mixed media”, which is probably more confusing. He should have said like, “what do you paint?” and I guess I’d have an answer for that, I’d say “I paint pretty girls” – except I’m not really doing that anymore so I don’t think I’d really have an answer if someone asked. I don’t think most people know what to say when you tell them you’re an artist because it’s hard to define an artist’s success. Like, if you say you’re a computer engineer for Telus, people know right off the bat that you are employed, that you make a living doing what it is you do even if they don’t understand what you do and they can (more or less) gauge your level of intelligence based on your job title. With an artist, all of that information is open-ended and finding a successful artist, one who makes a living from their art, particularly a GOOD living, is a pretty rare thing. And it’s rude to ask anyone if they’re successful or not so people – I think, anyway – assume you’re not successful. Or that you make a meager living. No one wants to see the dreamers thrive. People want to rip off their wings and stomp them into the mud.
Unless you’re me. I’m very lucky in that I have this whole community of people who seem to want to see me succeed. I only really kinda figured this out today, but for every person who’s a dickweed to me in person, there are 10 people (maybe more!) online who would love to have me over for tea. I need to remember that I think. I think I need to like, have that knowledge be active in my brain at all times.
I think that’s why Twitter is such a necessity for me leaving the house. If there’s an awkward situation or if I’m freaking out, I’ve got 140 characters to reach out to someone and that friends list is like, 150 people who are all mostly active, so someone will be around. And if not someone on my friends list then maybe one of the other 1200 people who have me on *their* friends list might have something important to say. You never know! It’s just a good feeling knowing that all these people are out there and that, for the most part, they’re wishing me well. They’re on my side.
This week I’ve kinda been out of it. Just sort of in a daze. I’ve decided to start reading my Live Journal, which I’ve had for 11 years, from the very beginning for a possible project and mostly it’s been bumming me out. I see entries like this and I’m just like…what happened to me? I used to have it all together. I used to have all the answers (and I was right!) I used to be a functioning person. I used to be intelligent.
The psychiatric drugs I’m on make it very difficult to function. They make my memory practically evaporate, I simply can’t remember a damn thing and I feel like since I’ve been on them, my IQ has dropped at least 20 points. I actually feel dumber for having taken them. I need them because without them I’m a manic mess, not taking them isn’t an option, but I wish they didn’t affect my brain the way they do.
Like when I finish a book, I immediately forget everything I just read. I hate that about myself. My memory used to be so good and now it’s just crap and I seriously worry if I’m not looking at early onset Alzheimer’s. It’s that bad.
I don’t want to switch meds. I don’t want to go through all that again because that was hell and the ones I’m on now work. I can trust them, which is a very big thing. I just wish there was a way to make my memory better. Does that ginko shit really work?
~*I’ll be honest, I actually started this post last night while I was working but work was so crazy that I didn’t have a chance to finish it so I’m picking it up this morning and unfortunately I feel like I’ve lost the flow. I’m sorry.*~
I wonder if this feeling of being dumber than I was 11 years ago has to do with not leaving the house or doing anything all that stimulating very often. I don’t know what would be “stimulating” though, like I don’t think going on a trip to a museum is the answer. I think I need day to day interactions with normal people which is the exact thing I’ve spent the last decade trying to avoid.
Right now I’m reading a book, which is actually a workbook technically, called Mind Over Mood: Change How You Feel By Changing the Way You Think. It’s apparently THE workbook they use at the mental health centre I go to when they do group cognitive behavioural therapy classes (which I can’t do because Blake would have to take time off from work to get me there) and it could be the key to making me better. I think if I had some better thinking skills and maybe some better social skills, I’d feel more confident and going out wouldn’t be such a big deal.
Like I think back to when it was just Madison and I in the apartment in Uxbridge. I would leave the house every single day. I would put her in her stroller, we would go into my mom’s store, say “hi”, get her mail keys, walk up to the post office which was just as far away as the post office is here, check the mail, pick up any packages, cross the street with the stroller (which I would never do now for fear the the stroller or my bags breaking in the middle of the road – not that I have a stroller, but you know what I mean), go into Presents Presents Presents which is this AMAZING little gift shop that has the absolute best stuff ever in it (probably my favourite store) WITH THE STROLLER (it’s a very small store and you had to go up a little step to get in the door), look around, I would usually buy something small for Madison, not every day obviously because we were on welfare and I couldn’t afford that, but often, and I’d talk to the shop owner whose name I’m forgetting, then we would leave. Then I would go into the IGA (grocery store) 2 or 3 doors down and I would buy a basket’s worth of groceries because that’s how much I could carry on the back of the stroller, that’s how much I could afford, and I only had a bar fridge at home so it could only hold that many groceries in it at one time, then we would cross the road at the light, cross the other road at the other light and walk home. Then we’d go back up to our apartment, put the groceries away, and then we’d go back downstairs to my mom’s store to give her her mail and I’d hang out down there usually for most of the afternoon. In doing so, I would interact with my mom’s friends and customers the whole time.
This scenario would never in a million years happen today but I think of it often because I think that’s when I’ve been the happiest in my life. That needs to change. NOW needs to be the happiest in my life and there’s no reason why it shouldn’t be. I have a bomb assed job with fantastic hours that leaves me lots of time every day to do anything I want to, I’m not rich but I have enough money to leave the house with, my kids are old enough that they can stay home by themselves and really, they’re not going to do anything too crazy in public to make me nervous, there’s no reason for that. They’re nice, polite and courteous kids. While I’m not in the best shape, I know that physically I can walk to the post office. I’m capable of it. I hate exercise and I was a sloth in my former life but I need to get back to how it was when I lived in Uxbridge and walked everywhere: them’s just the breaks, lady. Walking is just how it’s done. I know I’m capable of all this, it’s just that I feel like there’s a big rock in my head preventing me from doing it. Hopefully this book will help me move that rock out of the way so I can live again.
So if I’ve been quiet, that’s what I’ve been up to. I’m reading Mind Over Mood, The Blogess’ memoir which I forget the title of and my own Live Journal from the very beginning. This doesn’t leave much room for art, but that’s okay because I think I need to like, chill for a while when it comes to that. I think I need to “download” as much information and stimuli as possible, let it simmer in my brain for a while like brain stew and then I’m sure I’ll become a creative genius who leaves the house ALL THE TIME.
I am playing with a painting idea that’s of Blake. I see him in my mind with his crazy hair and he’s NAKED and jizzing RAINBOWS. But I haven’t thought of how the rest of the painting is going to be yet. It’s just an image in my mind that I think I need to make reality. I have a Post-It on my desk that says “MAKE BLAKE JIZZ RAINBOWS” which, if anything, I’m probably going to have framed because I like it.
I want one of those portfolio things with a handle. Like this. I’ve been painting a lot on watercolour paper and I have nowhere to put any of it, so if I had one of those, I could put the paintings in there and slide that between my desk and the couch. I have no money whatsoever to put toward that purchase though because The Sketchbook Project for 3 people and then 2 premium Geocaching.com accounts tapped my ass out.
Speaking of geocaching…y’know, honestly, I’m not sure if I’m going to blog about geocaching because really, I don’t think it’s that interesting. It’s fun, it’s good exercise and it’s funny like, at the time, but in retrospect, when I try to write about it, none of it seems all that funny or interesting from an outside perspective.
I mean, last weekend we went after a big cache called “WONDERBALL” in Utopia that I’d found on Geocaching.com because I was curious to see what caches there were in Utopia since I think that’s where I’m going to launch our Canadian USB Travel Bug.
Y’know what? I’m not even going to write about it. I’ll just post the pictures. The video….well, it really sucks and I don’t want to edit it so I’m not going to. Long story short, we were in the FUCKING WOOD y’all, getting eaten alive by bugs and having to cross rivers on logs and shit because Blake sucks at trailblazing. Also, we ran into two ladies on our way into the conservation area who were on mountain bikes and they asked if we were geoaching, to which Blake said “yes” and they gave us a huge hint into decoding Wonderball. Without that piece of information, we would have gotten there and we wouldn’t have been able to open the cache! Apparently to GET that piece of information, you’re supposed to e-mail a Central Ontario Ceocachers member before you go out and they’ll give it to you. We didn’t know that because apparently researching caches is for amateurs.
Anyway, here are the pics:
Me and Madison crossing the river.
(Pic by Alex)
You had to make the letters and numbers match up with a code word & then it would open.
It was a letterbox hybrid cache, not just a puzzle cache, so we all stamped our books the best we could with the Sharpie marker I’d brought (I’m going to start carrying around a stamp pad) and we were on our merry way.
This one was called “Don’t Cut the Red Wire” and it was complicated.
I’m not totally sure what they did to get the co-ordinates to the final cache.
After that we were pretty tired out so we called it a day and we went to South St. Burger Co. for dinner and then we came home. As far as I’m aware, it was a good time had by all. (The pics would have been better except that I’d just thrown my camera in my bag without checking to see if the battery was okay. It wasn’t, it was dead. :o()
I think from now on though, we need to research caches better because we would have been completely fucked if we didn’t magically run into those ladies. I also think we need more practice with the GPS unit because Blake had us going through THE FUCKING WOODS, like, the undergrowth was so dense it was ridiculous and I have never been so glad for glasses in my life because we were getting hit in the face with branches and stuff.
Anyway, it was fun.
So yesterday while I was working, I suddenly craved sushi like crazy so I called Blake, who was at the mall in Newmarket getting Madison a strapless bra for her grad dress and shampoo & conditioner for us at Lush, where I knew there was this little sushi hut but he suggested he get it from this place in Barrie that Alex recommended. So that’s what he did. I told him I was okay with pretty much anything as long as it didn’t involve fish or fruit.
He brought me home some sort of cucumber rolls, which were okay and these AMAZING FUCKING YAM TEMPURA ROLLS that I’m absolutely dying for. They have YAMS which I don’t even know what that IS that are deep fried in tempura in the middle with seaweed crap and rice (obviously). They are DELICIOUS.
And the thing is, I realized, that I don’t have to eat a whole order of sushi in one sitting because it’s not like it’ll go bad super fast. And I can’t eat two orders of sushi all by myself anyway. So my plan for today is to eat more of that sushi (because Blake had to go to Barrie to get a part so he can fix the kitchen sink), watch last week’s episode of Mad Men that I feel asleep through, and then read more of my book. Then tonight during Game of Thrones and Mad Men, I think I might start my portrait of Blake. We’ll see what happens.
Okay, time to eat. I hope you’re having a wonderful day!