I've kind of gone to a really really dark place. In my art. In my regular life I still seem pretty full of light, even when I'm bawling my eyes out all snotty and red-eyed. I have lightness, because I have friends and family shining on me. I'm NOT okay with the things going on in my life- I honestly can't even predict when or how that will happen.
I've been pretty introspective too... very descriptive in the way I talk and write about my life when I'm emailing or having a conversation with my people.
I say things like;
"I feel like, my husband died... and everyone else got to keep up with his ghost... and I got to be haunted by him"
"I survive the moments and then when the coast is clear, I mourn them"
"I'm so numb I can't even feel my toes"
"Is it possible for my tear ducts to malfunction from overuse?"
and other crazy shit like that... but what I GET out of this- all this talking talking talking I am doing is that I get to say what I feel at it's most raw. Sometimes I choose my words carefully- but it seems like my words are just flying out, knowing that they need to be said without me really getting the chance to choose them. Which, so far so good, has been enlightening.
And then there is what has been coming out of me on paper, or canvas, or cardboard or rocks or whatever the heck I can get my hands on to work out my sorrow by creating SOMETHING.
I told my friend the other day that I really just need to beat the shit out of something to get all this, this stuff out of me... we talked about a batting cage or a driving range having "disgruntled ladies nights'... ha ha... ha.
But a few hours after we talked, after I put the kids to bed, I did this... and it felt like I had just beat the shit out of air and it all fell on this canvas and looked like this when it landed:
it's not done, but then again- neither is my sorrow. And if doing this made me feel like I just hit a thousand golf balls with all my might- then can you imagine what it's going to look like when all that "stuff" I need to get out lands on page after page, canvas after canvas, piece after piece of art?