A World of WIPs!

Hello all! I have plenty of real talk posts I am working on, lots that I want to say! 

But I have also been making a lot of art! 

And since I wanted to make a post but didn't feel like typing a whole lot, you get pictures of art! 

That's always nice, right?

This is actually a finished page in my art journal:

This is an unfinished mixed media painting, on magazine pages I glued together:

 

A few unfinished art journal pages: 

I am bad about finishing pages lately! I just love the feeling of starting a page or painting. There is so much fresh energy and so many possibilities of where it can go! 

Hope you are all well.

More lengthy life posts coming soon.
:3

What "Making It" Means

I want to share a very beautiful blog post by Numinous Jane about costumes. 

It is here: What Costumes Are You Wearing?

It's a short and sweet and powerful post. 

And it got me thinking on costumes I have been forcing myself in for years. 

YEARS! 

Ugh. 

And it grows tiresome. 

Because I am what I am now, but sometimes I put on different skins. 

Skins of the past, because they feel comfortable and keep me from trying when things are difficult.

They are an excuse. 

"I can't grow, I'm broken."

"I can't do that, I am a victim."

"I am in a shadow, my light can not shine."

No. 

I'm not that anymore. 

I will put on the costume of victim, damaged, emotional shattered, drowning in the dark sea.

And at one time, I was. It was bad. 

But I've come so far in my healing. 

Astronomical lengths, actually.

Looking at where I am now, compared to where I once was, I can't believe I made it here, this far. 

THIS is fucking making it. 

THIS is a success story. 

I'm alive.

I'm an artist, I am a light, I am waking up every day and trying and growing and existing. 

And appreciating it. 

I can get down about not having an art business or not being published. 

I can still let the past wounds come back to haunt me and make me feel like I'm not worthy or whole or bright or real. 

And when I let that past in or when I get down on myself for not being where I feel I should, 

those are costumes. 

Inhibiting.

I dance in my room and feel real joy through it, I cherish every interaction with my loved ones, I have a source and a release in art journaling, I have a voice and a truth. 

If I am living this truth everyday, if I am mindful and grateful and finding joy in being alive, then I am making it. 

It is the bare me, the gritty me, the un-costumed me.

The me I have created, the life I have created, the voice I have created; it's raw and awe-inspiring, even to me. 

Years ago, I never would have dreamt of being here now, being who I am, being happy and alive and joyous and bright. 

So this is very real to me. 

This is what "making it" looks like to me. 

And it's so fantastically, deeply, powerfully, achingly breathtaking that I could weep.

This is all the success I need. 

Obviously, I will keep working toward my passions and dreams. 

But at the end of the day, I am the best me I ever could have imagined being right now.

I exceeded my own expectations. 

I'm a fucking dream come true. 

And that's brilliant. 

That's all. 

By the Stream

First of all, I'm back on the internet! 

I honestly didn't miss it that much. (Except all the funny cat photos!) 

It definitely made me see how much time I gave to the internet world and not the real world. 

So, that is something I need to be mindful of. 

The past two weeks have been chaos and stress and sickness. :(

We've been understaffed at work, I've been working overtime. 

I got really sick, like couldn't move because it made my head, neck, and chest throb.

That lasted three days. 

And now allergies are kicking me in the face and it's rather unpleasant. 

But Sunday, I went to work and it was exhausting. I felt really defeated by the amount of work coupled with my sore and sick body. I just felt sad and defeated and beat up. 

But instead of just taking the bus home, which was really tempting, I took the creek path home. 

I kind of forced myself. I was like "You need some nature and the soothing sounds of the creek, so just suck it up. Go slow, but do it!  You need it, desperately."

So, I did. And it was really lovely. I really did need it quite badly. 

Being in nature helps to connect me, align me, and center me. 

It reminds me that it's not just work and scheduling and sickness. 

It reminds me that there's more.

I wrote this little poem, and it's kind of cheesy, but it's full of truth. 

(Also, I use the word "stream" in the poem, because I think it's prettier than "creek". Alas.)

"nothing like a twenty-five year old

sitting on a rock, staring

wistfully at the stream

poised to write melodramatic poetry 

like she did when she was sixteen.

But I swallow what the stream says

I swallow what the wind says

I swallow what the rays of sun through the leaves say

fallen in front of me

matter of factly

with the same staying sound

of a rock hitting the water

"Well, I can't go on being unhappy."

"Good"

the rocks say

"Good"

the moss says

"Good"

the water drying from my feet says

Good, and maybe

and here is space to try

to spread, to alter

here is the sound of becoming

the sound of sitting by the stream."

I hope that you are all well and all making space for your well being and brightness.