Frame of Reference

I was lying in bed last night, fighting to sleep amongst the many times I was awoken, when I suddenly remembered my tupperware in the refrigerator at work. I literally felt my heart speed up, my adrenaline release a ridiculous amount of juju in my stream. They clean the fridge every Saturday and throw everything away that is left in there. I totally forgot to get it when I left work. (Which happens often) I was experiencing a mini panic attack OVER TUPPERWARE!! What have I become?? I talked myself out of it and was reiterating the ridiculousness of the whole situation while I was clocking in. I saw my tupperware in the sink. Someone took pity on me. I was way too elated. I need a life desperately. We have been slammed with military going home. It's so sweet to see yet it's also exhausting. It's like an abercrombie commercial on a constant loop for 8 hours and unfortunately, the naivete can get old very very quickly. But I always maintain my patience. It's my coworker...

Possibly my best yet. One of my favorites, anyway. Colored pencil.

I think he has three teeth coming in at the same time. Definitely two. Frozen carrot. It was literally "too cold to hold." I haven't gotten much sleep the past two nights. Work has also picked up because of the holiday's. I'm noticing that I'm a lot more numb to the angry people than I have been. I'm not sure if that's good or bad. I think I'm repressing so much in one area that my feelings are bottlenecking in another area. I'm going to try my hand at natural remedies for anxiety for the next 5-10 days. Herbs and oils. If it works, I'll go longer, if it doesn't, well, it doesn't. There are trailers playing on t.v. for the movie "The Secret Life of Walter Mitty"with Ben Stiller. I really don't have a huge interest in seeing it. It only caught my attention because I find myself having the same, exact, vivid experiences. Even in slow motion, especially at work. I'll put my headphones on and just "zone...

"Hard hearted, don't worry, I'm ready for a fight" ~Tegan and Sara Caiden is getting tooth #3. Upper front tooth. I can't believe how excited I am for a babies milestones. It's indescribable.

I tried my hand at making zucchini bread this evening. I think it turned out pretty phenomenal. I've never had it before so I have nothing to compare it to, but everyone likes it okay. I think cooking tends to focus my energy and help with my anxiety. Better than drawing. I feel pressure when I draw. I don't hold myself to any standard with food like I do art. I'm finding that I like cooking very much. I'm getting a bonus at work, surprise to anyone that we are getting anything, considering the shut down and all. I suppose, sometimes, life isn't always as bad as we imagine it. If we get out of our heads and imaginations, it's all pretty manageable. Wren is still pooping inside of the house. I'm at my wits end.

Frenetic, Kinetic, Stopping "What happens when an unstoppable force collides with an unmovable object"?

Why do I fight so hard for the things that are so unsure?

I had an awesome dream where I could levitate green balls. Not very far or very high. I was making them go through different obstacles. I'd have to use hand motions to make myself focus and I lost focus very easily. I was either trying to teach my coworkers how to do it or convince them that I was the one actually doing it. Fast forward into the most realistic nightmare that I've had in a long time. Bailey and I had walked outside of a house. There was a manicured front lawn with a palm tree, encircled by rubber mulch and white stones. We walked past a car in the driveway and was just about to pass the short palm tree when an alligator stood up and ran "or ambled in the way that alligators do" to the parked car. Unbeknown to me, Wren was under the car. Before she could run the alligator had her in his mouth. The most horrific part was that she didn't die right away. She was making the most awful mewing sound.

I'm not perfect. I suppose that no one is, not even deities. Where do you draw the line between standing up for what you believe in and giving in to what is best for another person? How far do you take the bluff before the outcome is something you never wanted? I was warned not to push. To hold off. I see myself pushing anyway. It's like picking my arms. I know that I don't want it. I know I hate the marks, the scars, the looks. I feel the pain and I hate myself instantly. Yet... I do it. It's beyond a compulsion. It's beyond logic. But I'm not going to sit here and blame chemicals or DNA. I'm in control of my world and nobody else. I look in the mirror and the person staring back is not someone that I like.

Step right up to the roller coaster that I call home. I built it and it is all mine. I share too much of myself. Mostly the bad things, the sob stories, the "martyr" "feel sorry for me" stories. I read a quote once but I can't remember who it's from. An author maybe. It said when a girl is having fun and completely happy... she has nothing to write about. When attacks hit, there is no rationale. There is no compromising or talking ones self down. There is staring at your phone. Swiping the screen to make sure it's still working and didn't somehow turn off by itself. It's the last words that somebody said to you a long time ago that you've never forgotten. It's giving ultimatums to everything and everyone around you, even if they are in your head. There is a quote from 28 days (not the zombie movie the sandra bullock movie). "If only everyone knew how you felt. How it felt to be inside of your skin and how it crawled." Or...

"Panic attacks are strikingly different from other types of anxiety; panic attacks are so very sudden and often unexpected, appear to be unprovoked, and are often disabling." These episodes can occur at any time, even during  sleep . The fear and terror that a person experiences during a panic attack are not in proportion to the true situation and may be unrelated to what is happening around them. Most people with panic attacks experience several of the following symptoms : "Racing" heart Feeling weak, faint, or dizzy Tingling or numbness in the hands and fingers Sense of terror, or impending doom or death Feeling sweaty or having chills Chest pains Breathing difficulties Feeling a loss of control Panic attacks are generally brief, lasting less than 10 minutes, although some of the symptoms may persist for a longer time. People who have had one panic attack are at greater risk for having subsequent panic attacks than those who have never experienced ...

He does smile, I promise.

I want to live a life that I love, to discover my genius and creativity, consciously create my reality with FUN, JOY, and laughter!!!!! I intend to experience greater and greater levels of magic, fun, creativity, connectedness with the Divine, peace, prosperity, abundance, safety, elegance, ease, health and healing, divine grace, divine guidance, joy, freedom, beauty, trust, wisdom and love.

Things haven't changed much at work since the shooting. Tensions are high and there are a lot of questions. The public has forgotten in two days. They are back to being assholes for the most part. I choose not to focus on it. Not to focus on the rigors of being a woman in this line of work. You have to know what is important to you. I know that I get accused of not picking my battles. But I am confronted with battles every day, all day. I feel like if I let go of what's important to me then I have nothing to stand for. No solid ground. How is anyone supposed to respect me if I don't stand for anything? Maybe it's not worth it. I feel like it is though. In the grand scheme of things. Another bout of turbulence and I forgot to fasten my seat belt,

I honestly don't know how to express my feelings over todays news events. I wonder if it will affect the future of the organization that I currently work for. Hate is such a basic human emotion. I don't know. I think there is a hole in our boat.

I finished the series of Battlestar Gallactica this morning. I believe I cried during the entire last hour. It was a very nicely done series. A lot of unanswered questions. I have to say that I really hated and really loved how Starbuck's story ended. Either way, I really felt that I was transported. I cared about the characters and their stories and that's a sign of a great, great story. I also read an article about bonding and touch. How bonding with a child is similar, yet vastly different, to bonding with a mate or with anyone. Human's require it though. Touch, the feeling of being important to someone. I think some people need it more than others. It was a very good article.

The purple shouldn't run parallel to the wing and the neck should intersect more with the edge of the moon. It is what it is. As is everything. Everyday. And the day after and the day after that.

I've always felt that my problems aren't enough. How messed up is that? That my reactions to issues aren't normal and I am somehow doing something wrong. Newest skateboard Acrylic

The government shutdown is postponed. It's beyond my fathoming that news outlets are reporting that it's over. We will see. I have applied at various other places, my fingers are crossed. I got a call today that I sold TWO PAINTINGS IN ONE DAY!?!?!?! My mind was blown. My mind has yet to wrap around the fact that I've sold even one!! I have a skateboard to put up tomorrow but it's very abstract and I don't think I'm very happy with it. I am looking forward to doing a heron though. It's going to be minimalistic. It's good to look forward to something... I'm afraid of tomorrow.

I almost over slept this morning.  I woke up with 20 minutes to shower and get dressed. Rushed into the kitchen, no coffee. Work, new procedures. A 50 page manual to memorize by today. There will be a test New procedures equals slower processing time Which equals late passengers which equals pissed off people "Hey lady!!" I hear from 25 feet away. I'm standing next to an elderly gentleman who is talking to me. He's confused and isn't sure what to do. My attention is momentarily diverted to said screamer. He's a young guy, late 20's early 30's. Well dressed. Obviously used to getting what he wants. Looks like a golfer. He points to his shoes and screams "SHOES?!?!" I nod and hold up my finger in the UNIVERSAL language of 'hold on'. The passenger I'm dealing with is literally pulling on my arm. I turn to him and smile, continuing trying to explain things. I overhear 'shoe' guy say, "What the fuck?" he tur...

I do not want to be an angry person. I don't want that living inside of me like a parasite, eating away the fibers of my humor and good nature. I struggle to let it go.

After my brooding yesterday, I woke up with a positive determination to listen to music, control what I can, and be okay with the rest. I sidestepped poisonous conversation and bitter anger amongst coworkers and supervisors. An elderly lady (passenger) even told me that she was incredibly happy that I was the one that "got her" because I was so sweet and 'gentle'. She took my name down and told me she would request me on her next flight out. Another woman (passenger) walked up to me and handed me her ticket. She looked at me and tilted her head before asking "Aren't you kind of too pretty to work here?" I was honestly speechless and I still think it's a bit of a backhanded snarky compliment. She walked away before I could respond. I don't ever and would never think of physicality as being considered in anything, especially where -I- am concerned... except procreation and lust and maybe Hollywood, but even then... So it was good until our debri...

I wake up each morning hoping that the government shutdown has ended. Each day that it is shutdown is another day that is not going to be on my paycheck. In calm moments I have clarity that I've become a slave to this stress. Who am I, that I worry about money so much? That I let it affect me to this point? Worrying about it isn't going to change things. I suppose being bombarded with coworkers talking about loans and taking money from their retirement and delaying car payments and having their electricity turned off, not to mention the supervisors telling us every morning that they understand morale is low, it sucks, carry on. Great pep talk. But what else can they say? I've never done well being alone with my thoughts. I need to keep busy.

So working without pay sucks. Going on day five. All of us are calling our banks to see what resources are out there. Nada. There are perks, for sure. Sam's, some restaurants, evens some car companies. But as far as bills, credit cards go... gggrrrr The working environment is toxic. Surrounded by negativity. I listen to music. A lot! Looking, browsing for opportunities.

Middle Finger to ---> Back spasms Government shutdown Working for free Bills Medicaid Babies not getting correct insurance Corporations Complaints Corn Tortillas Hair that is too long to wear down and too short to be put up Leave without pay No sick leave No calling in No gas No money Laundry No saying goodnight Bad dreams Weird noises in one's head Panic Attacks Sore feet Getting in trouble at work Angry passengers Angry coworkers Anger Sleep deprivation Dissatisfied family members Lack of creativity Lack of resources Lack of energy His expression says it all.

Work went by pretty fast today. They have minimized the work force because everyone is in training. Things have to get done before Tuesday, apparently. Fox news plays all day in the break room. Congress this, Republicans that, Obama said this, worst case scenario that. Headphones in and Britney is doing it again before Imogen is Sshhhing me and Savage Garden fights with the Shiny Toy Guns. Kiwi bread is delicious and I'm becoming quite the chef. This made me laugh and heaven knows we could all use more of those.

This past Wednesday (yesterday) I submitted three drawings. They weren't new. In my self sabotaging, lazy, unstable way that I have...I was unable to create anything new. So I ransacked my sketchbook and "spruced" up some older drawings. They were juried, judged, and accepted. I feel accomplished and proud. And yet... We didn't hear anything this week about layoffs. Apparently they are going to wait until Monday to see if the entire government will shut down, will enact a stay of execution, or will cancel it all together. All of this politics have honestly made me sick of the whole thing. I was just reminiscing about Jake's. I was cleaning my closet and came across my stash of brightly colored staff shirts. It was a time in my life. A clearly defined one with a beginning and an end. I liked it. I miss it.

You'd think that growing up with three women (four to six if you count our four legged members) I'd be used to the hormones, mood swings, anger, out bursts, vanishing food, and laughing fits. But no, I'm not. I don't think I ever will be at this point. Women are fucking nuts. Myself included. I suppose we have to be. So I was told it's a high possibility that I might lose my job, along with 17 other people, due to government budget cuts and "restructuring". Awesome. I could take this as a sign that the powers that be agree with me in my disgruntlement. They are giving me an out, per se. I, however, don't think they are taking my bank account and bills into consideration. Also, a former employee has committed suicide. I didn't know him very well but I did share the same space on occasion. My drawings are going to be juried on Wednesday. I'd post pictures, but I don't have any, because there are no drawings. I'm stressing myself. I ...

I traveled 4.5 hours north to see Tegan and Sara in Tuscaloosa, Alabama on Monday. I wasn't supposed to be alone, but due to a series of events, I found myself driving solo. I will admit that I was upset and angry and feeling sorry for myself at first. As time went on, the miles ticking away, and the amount of bugs on my windshield increasing, I fell into it. I fell into the rhythm of the trip, of being alone, of being in control. It reminded me of past road trips and it helped me.... center, per se. I jammed to music and gazed into empty buildings with broken glass, ghost towns. I played "speed trap" with local cops and ignorant drivers and tiptoed through questionable bathrooms and scary gas stations. I felt my age when a fellow concert goer was reading Harry Potter and I ran to the front row against the "bar" like a teenager myself. I sang along to ever song and rolled my eyes at the crowds antics. (Really, what makes someone scream, "I love you"??)...

What happens when the naive, romantic, loses faith?

It's simple, just find out who you are. Be good with you. *blink* Isn't that the meaning of life? Aren't we ever changing? How can I be expected to do that?? It's like picking what I want to be when I grow up!! Fuck that. And while I'm on my soap box... It's OK to be immature! In fact, it's fraking encouraged. If you cant let go and be a kid and turn off the adult, then that's a problem. If you can't enjoy the simple things in life, throw a water balloon, fart while someone is saying something serious, laugh at yourself, or play a game with your spouse, then it's not worth it. My pinky and ring finger are still numb and my head feels like it's stuck on a spike. Literally, the back of my head feels like a 2 foot pole is stuck in place of my spine, and it's sharp. Every time I move my right arm I feel a clicking behind my shoulder blade. But sleeping with this guy?? It's a reason to wake up every day. To see his smile and hear ...

I have so many questions. Silence. This seems to be a recurring theme. My right arm, from the elbow down, keeps going numb. Like, it's falling asleep. So am I transferring my anxiety to where it's manifesting itself physically? Why keep at it? I hate being aware of time. Pavlov. What did we do when people weren't sought through electricity? Is this the learning curve. The core? Is this going to make me the person? Nothing comes for free, but what about love? Isn't it freely given and received? Does it exist? Stupid love songs.

Battlestar Galactica  If ever there was an escape...

Someone at work told me that I'm letting a golden opportunity pass me by. Artists are naturally tortured and do their best work when their emotions run wild. I'm not channeling my inner turmoil and the things that I'm feeling into my work (art wise). They suck, and I could either wallow in them or learn from them and turn them into something productive. I think the best I can hope for is to feel them and "try" to make something of them. I made coffee today.... I filled the water, I put a brand new package of coffee in, closed the lid, pressed start, and walked away. Without anything for the coffee to go into. So it went all over the counter and the floor. Lots of fun trying to clean that up at 3 in the morning, trying to be quiet. At least I didn't wake Caiden. He hasn't been sleeping through the night. Everyone thinks he is teething. Who knows. I just know there are too many Chiefs. The most random song floated into my head today. I have no idea what so...

So... Now What?

I have a hole in at least 70% of my bottoms. Jeans, shorts, work pants, you name it... holes. Caiden got his first set of shots yesterday. I held his hands. Rude people on a daily that make you misstep. "How was work?" I'm still breathing. Sometimes 2 hours of nothing but the 10 people you work with and 8 you don't like. The silence and the pacing get to you. The idiosyncrasies and the stupidity, not of passengers, get to you. Look for security and just end up swimming in a pool of fear and anxiety, but you filled it. It's your hose that filled the hole. IT'S SO STUPID A SONG CAN MAKE ME CRY!!! I'm stronger than that. I'm stronger than this. But what if I'm not? And why does no one believe me? Have I been talking Japanese this whole time? Have you only had to go by my actions this entire time? My words mean something. At least to me. Self involved... Lorde Royalty Good or?

I've never been one to suffer with back pain during "that time". This month, I was treated to that fun little experience. Either that or I have a roaring kidney infection, which I highly doubt. It feels as if someone with cleats is grinding my kidney, hip, right butt cheek, into the ground over and over without ever letting up.  In an ironic twist of the fate, I got to see a possible future of mine. I worked with an elderly lady at the gallery today. She never stopped talking. She never stopped talking about her ailments, her surgeries, her hospital stays, her husbands injuries, her neighbors surgeries. I thought, "Oh my god, if I don't stop complaining about myself and giving into my hypochondria ways, that's me in a few years!" .... And then I blog about my pain. Makes me laugh. At least I'm self aware. Bailey has become my permanent bed partner. Sometimes B.C. will get in on the action. I love how most nights I'm aware of where they are wit...

It's a paradox. Knowing that I have security, a retirement, insurance, a decent salary and then getting told every day to "get out while I can", "don't stay here", "people come here to retire". I do see that. I feel it most days. And the so called security is what I've rebelled against for so long. I don't know what to do. There are drawings that need to be done, and I have ideas. I just can't seem to execute. I feel as if my creativity and drive are stuck in this quagmire of emotions that everyone around me, and me, has created. But logically I know that I am in control of my own emotions and happiness. Logically I know a lot of things I shouldn't be doing, but do them anyway. It's crazy, since I've given up job #2, I seem to be a lot more tired than I used to be. I need my emotions and my brain to get along, I need to create a bubble of peace amidst the chaos and negativity and just be positive. Yeah... I'll ju...

Bewilder me with clarity as we hang our stars amongst the clouds and lose every ounce of patience we have for each other with utmost sincerity the difference in our minds' lies is as ever changing as the color of your eyes lest you forget the blue in mine never alters but my breath does falter following my heart as it drowns in clouded waters are these wounds festering or is it the itch of the healing that we're feeling?

We went to the duck pond yesterday.  Just the two of us.  Then we came home and played with my hats. 

I'm not really happy with how these are turning out. I really need something on my wall though. So maybe they will just be filler until I can get something decent up.

I'm glad that I only have two more days until I have two days off. Only having one day is just a tease. My body doesn't like me for only one day. It needs one to recover and one to enjoy. Tomorrow is Monday. Monday's suck and it's the first day of school here. I hope it goes well for everyone. Kind of inspired for artwork. It's tentative and I have three, possibly four commissions on hold. I told them all that I can't commit to a deadline, so I don't have that pressure. Maybe I will work better that way.

Struck a nerve reading E squared Like a chord on a guitar, maybe C A peacock feather, dismembered Amongst blood shaded royalty Everything I have isn't enough Positivity is just way too much Our world is what we make it Fear begets fear and I refuse to feed it

So maybe Florida 'is' really going to break off or sink into the ocean. Check out my neighborhood street -> Hard to tell with the perspective, but the traffic cone in the hole is just as large as the traffic cone standing upright. Ugly, gnarly sinkhole/pothole car tire trap.  My baby nephew Caiden, sleeping. He is going to grow into his full set of devil horns. Right now he's just rocking one half of the pair because he only has the stamina to be half as devilish as he could be. He's only three months but in comparison to other babies I see, he seems largish. Although his mother is 5'11 so I guess it's normal. Just wish we could get him to the doctor. Still no painting. Still fighting snot like a white knight with shiny armor. Kicked the coughs ass but getting my ass kicked by the sinuses.

The last day of my vacation. I didn't even pick up a paint brush. I did a fair amount of staring at a blank canvas. Maybe it's for the best. I haven't been feeling well. Every time that I swallow, my ears pop. I feel like I have a piece of pepper stuck at the back of my throat and no amount of coughing or clearing it or water is helping. I know it's my sinuses or allergies. I know that tomorrow of the next day I will feel better. I just know it. Odd experiences with artists at the gallery: I was working with a yoga instructor one evening. Her phone chimes. She looks at it and says, "Oh, it's just my reminder to meditate." I don't know, seems a little.... oxymoronic. Another evening I was lamenting about how I have a hard time setting prices and I often end up giving stuff away. The lady says, "I stopped giving things away a long time ago. I wouldn't do that now (pause) ... unless God told me to." Right, well that was a conversati...

"Taking steps is easy. Staying still is hard" The world keeps moving when I close my eyes. I am presented with problems and I want to solve them, like some bad rap song, while my dj revolves them. The sun comes up and it goes down. Here I am in the wings, called upon with the bat signal to swoop in and then be cast out. I will build it, I will buy it, I will call them. But when I feel selfish, who will say that is okay? Like having a bad day?

I probably repeat myself a lot. Parent's repeat themselves a lot for the same exact reason that teachers repeat themselves. Older people do it because they probably don't care and younger people do it because they can't remember who they just told their "awesome" story to. It's being human. Makes us lovable, I think. Caiden rolled over today. I was lying in bed with him. He was fighting sleep so I was making him 'work a little'. This just consists of me holding him and trying to get himself to "hold himself up" or rolling him around on the bed. Making him lift his face up and just like that, he rolled over, right in front of me. I know this is a completely normal occurrence for babies and I can't explain why it makes me so happy. I'm just so proud of the little guy. I called him my little "C-man" and then I paused because I realized that sounds way to much like SEMEN. So, new nickname time. On July 19th I sold my skate...

I'm walking a tight rope. I feel like the world is throwing 'dodge balls' that keep hitting me. Despite everything I'm still hanging on. Sometimes by tooth and nail, sometimes with a swagger. Sometimes at night I'm holding the rope in my hands and I'm curled up in a dark corner, making it evident that the rope itself is a farce. Isn't everything? "There is no spoon." I'm exhausted.

I actually feel so much better after my emotional vomit last night. I read a paper a while ago about how keeping a journal is good for mental health. I don't think that I am exactly a shining example of good mental health, but I can attest to the benefits of it all. There is a song out, it's called "Angel with a shotgun". I don't like it, AT ALL! I can't stand the lyrics and the message. I've woken up singing it for the past 4 days straight. I also dreamed about vampires last night. I was stuck in a bathroom holding the door shut with my feet. They would toy with me, asking to come in, pushing on the door. One female vampire also ate Caiden. I didn't seem that upset by it, just surprised. It was more comical than anything. "No, I can't let you in!! YOU JUST ATE A BABY!" "Yeah well, he was just there and I was hungry. It's not exactly my fault."

I watch his breathing. I watch bailey's breathing. I match my breath to their breaths. The lightning colors the room bright pink. Bailey only notices if I move to look. I watch his breathing. I don't think about waking up at 2:30. I don't think about going to my second job that I pussied out of my two week notice that turned into a month because my boss wanted a vacation. I don't think about the blank spaces on my gallery wall or the email calling me out for doing things the wrong way. I don't think about the money that doesn't exist or the hole in my filling that I keep putting off. I watch Bailey's breathing. I don't think about getting moved to Second Shift and losing all of the friends that has taken me this long to make. I don't think about how my weaknesses cause everyone around me pain and suffering or annoyance. I watch his breathing. I listen to the rain hitting the window. I don't think about the self hatred I hold...

This is my song You can be amazing You can turn a phrase into a weapon or a drug You can be the outcast Or be the backlash of somebody’s lack of love Or you can start speaking up Nothing’s gonna hurt you the way that words do And they settle ‘neath your skin Kept on the inside and no sunlight Sometimes a shadow wins But I wonder what would happen if you Say what you wanna say And let the words fall out Honestly I wanna see you be brave With what you want to say And let the words fall out Honestly I wanna see you be brave Everybody’s been there, everybody’s been stared down By the enemy Fallen for the fear and done some disappearing Bow down to the mighty Don’t run, stop holding your tongue Maybe there’s a way out of the cage where you live Maybe one of these days you can let the light in Show me how big your brave is Say what you wanna say And let the words fall out Honestly I wanna see you be brave Innocence, your history of silence Won’t do you any good Did you think it would? Let...

Three days of being in the basement, lifting VERY heavy bags, from one conveyer to another, to one machine, to another, has taken it's toll on my shoulders. Not to mention the normal stresses of trying to quite a job and complete artwork on a deadline. I know it sounds like complete inane bullshit, I should be grateful to have a job, blah blah blah. I am. I really am. I'm doing this to myself. My choice. I get it. What's the difference between Overconfidence and Complacency? I mean, really. Does the act of complacency NOT require overconfidence? Stupid test questions.

I've had this blog for eight years. It's the one thing that I've been consistent at my whole life. It's the one thing I turn to, to be vague, to "let it out", to vent, to be creative, to wonder, to postulate, to cry, to laugh, to make fun of myself, to just be. Eight years. This place in the "internet world" really means a whole lot to me. I can't control who looks in. I don't use this as a means of advertising. I do not write "help me" letters on the window to those looking in. This is simply mine and its going to be for a very long time, I hope.

Remember the last words you said to someone before you never saw them again?

I knew when I cracked one eye open and saw Bailey sleeping and sunlight streaming through the window that I was in trouble. I grabbed my phone and saw 7:30. I never should have gotten out of bed. I never should have opened my mouth.

Britney Spears, but not. So frustrating when an innocent life is set in front of a crossroad and they have no choice in which road is going to be chosen for them. It's up to the adults around that life. But the adults are acting irrationally. It's a good thing that it's raining. Shiny Toy Guns III Who knew? Anxiety serves no purpose. Feel free, let go.

The days are getting warmer. It's 80 degrees when I drive to work at 3am. I like it. I've always liked the heat. The less clothes the better, I say. I know there are naysayers out there, but that's what an opinion is for. I'm giving mine. I'm a giver. Tomorrow I will be getting up at 2:30am and going to work at job#1 until 12:30. From there I will go to job#2 until 4:30. Lastly I will go to job#3 (to which I do not get paid for) until 8:30. This is my first day working all three jobs at the same time. Apparently scheduling is based on a first come first choose basis since we are a co-op gallery. And lemme tell ya....old people are viscous cut throat bitches who don't give a fuck if you have 6 jobs! These people stay up until midnight when the scheduling goes up just so they can choose the best shifts on Sunday and such. Killers, I'm telling ya. But what the hell. They earned it. I hope to be as vivacious when I am that age. Getting grief from those you...

"You just have to let it go. You have to just let it go." Sure, that sounds exactly like what I need to do. So how do I do that? Exactly?

I said goodbye. They left this morning.

A lot going on. Memorial Weekend at the 'port. Not as many interesting people as I'd thought there would be. More queens than anything else. Can anyone say "attitude"? My baby boy Caiden has been down for almost a week. I simply can't put into words the love that I feel for this little bundle of joy. I also can't explain how my soul cries thinking about the life that he is going back to. The people that he will be surrounded by. I don't want to let him go. I want to hold him and teach him things and watch him when he smiles for the first time. I want to show him the moon and feel as his grip tightens. I want to watch his facial expressions when he tastes something he hates or loves, or when he walks in shoes! I can't hand him back and watch him go away from me. Its such a different kind of pain and sadness than anything that I've every felt before in my life. I can't believe I'm crying typing this. Wow. Who would have thought. Okay B...

Every day people at work ask me what new art I've created. I look dejecteded and ask them when they think I  have time to do this? I went to the gallery to "train" which is completely volunteer but required. I was at the airport from 3:40 to 12:30 at the gallery from 1:30 to 5:15 and then at a gallery meeting from 5:30 to 6:30. The meeting lasted until 8:30 but I had to leave before even a quarter of it was done. I got home, ate dinner, and crashed. I'm supposed to have a tattoo drawing done and a tutu drawing done and I keep telling them that I am a bit overwhelmed right now. They are understanding I think...but that doesn't stop them from asking me EVERY DAY how the drawings are coming along. Well..they aren't. Because i have to sleep. I have to. And my sciatica. Don't get me started. I'll just cry. SSDD

Every year for many years now, I've always made a New Year's resolution to sell a piece of my original artwork. Not a commission. Not something that someone has specifically asked me to draw. But something that I sat down and came up with on my own. Well, I can cross that off of my list now. I sold a painting at the gallery on Friday! I'm still in shock. It seems like everything is just happening so fast. But there are so many things I still need to do and to buy. I'm in a constant state of overwhelming emotions, zombie tiredness. My patience is under the zero mark with my fellow humans, co-workers especially. I know its me. I know logically, it's a lack of sleep, a constant state of anxiety. Constant desire to create more art and not having time to do it. Passengers' bad attitude, boss at job #2 being unhappy, loved ones being unhappy and now training for job #3. Aunt still here and nephew on the way in a week. I have a yearning for a zen sand garden with ...

First Gallery night. A lot of people from my airport job showed up. Meant a lot. That was really special. My mom was there and my aunt Cherie. A great family friend, Millie, was there. Cary, kids, friends from Gulf. A great evening, even if I did have to cut it incredibly short. The love was felt. The night was had. A new addition. A cool photograph of a wall the Madster and I contributed to. fin

Things have been kind of crazy. Crazy good, crazy scary, crazy... apathetic, if that makes sense. I have Gallery Night this friday. I'm really hoping that I have a new painting or two ready for the wall. I don't know though. I just have no time. And now my aunt is here. And layered on that..my sister is going to be here after that. Expectations for myself.. It's just.  I feel... so tired.

Well, this is what I made. I have more ideas in my head, but absolutely no time nor energy to get them done before Sunday. Acrylic and spray paint. I got my wall up. It looks pathetically bare. But it is up and that is more than I had a day ago, a year ago. It's so funny because every time I write my New Year's resolutions, I always write down... "Sell a piece of artwork." I have no expectations of selling anything, but I think it's a huge step in that direction. Like, I'm actually doing something instead of just talking about it. I couldn't have done it without people in my life cheering me on and being supportive. I tend to put myself out there and then at the last second give up.  Thank you Cary for making me sign up and supporting me and pushing me forward. Thanks mom for putting up with my bitchy attitude and sulking moments. Thank you Bailey for being there when I threw my paint brushes and not judging me.  Thank you B.C. for ke...

I had the interview today. I raced from job #1, battled for a parking space 2 blocks away, in the rain, and jogged up to the gallery. The interview went well. Going to be a lot more involvement on my part than I ever expected, but.... I got in. My wall is going up on Sunday and I'll have it for a year at least. Then I was on to job #2. My problem?? I only have 3 paintings and 11 feet of wall space. Fuck! I'm burning my nonexistent candle to produce something..something else for Sunday. The adrenaline and anxiety has made me nauseated. I don't know if I can do this.

Is that a 10th away from Friday the 13th? Tomorrow is the interview for the gallery. "It's informal but expect it to last about an hour." What kind of interview lasts an HOUR?!?! I'm honestly trying really hard not to think about it. I guess I'm trying really hard not to think about anything. Just wake up, go to work, eat, go to work, home, eat, sleep. Bailey did get a bath today. I suppose we both did. It was a small moment of a great time! Sometimes when you are so far into your head, so far into music that it is distracting you from what is going on inside of you...it makes the outside move in slow motion. I wish I could bottle that. Those moments...those moments are sacred. It's the little things that are so important to one person and so trivial to another.

Emotions are still a "wreck". I have a meeting with the president of the gallery on friday to discuss my "wall" and working in the gallery. Job #3. What am I doing?!?!?! It's a requirement and it's only a couple of hours a month but still. Something's gotta give. Well there is my brand new nephew. Caiden Lucas Hall. I picked his name. Well, it was from a very long list of names that I gave them, but still. A little pride. He's a baby and he's a pretty healthy looking one. Not splotchy or anything. I'm incredibly happy about that. Still looks like an alien, malformed thing, but a cute one.

My paintings were accepted. I received a very shocking call of congratulations by the curator. I still need to be interviewed. Apparently it's not just based on talent, you kind of have to be sane and professional. Why they expect these qualities from an artist is beyond me. I'm not prepared. I do not have tons of works just waiting to be displayed. I'm not prepared emotionally either, but then again, who is prepared for major change. I suppose we just jump in and roll with it. Speaking of emotions, mine are out of control. Hormones might have something to do with it. I almost had to leave work this morning from the pain. I hid out in the bathroom and rocked back in forth, wiping the sweat from my brow, just willing it to pass. My sister is at the hospital, possibly in labor. There is a lot of screaming, pain and blood. Sounds like every description of labor that I've heard. My mom took off this afternoon when she got the call. I feel so discombobulated. I think I...

I got a call a two weeks ago from the Blue Morning Gallery. They have a spot opening up, a wall space to be more exact. They said I could submit three works to be judged for the available space. The thing is, they all had to be in the same medium. Typically, I chose to do three new ones : I brought them into the gallery, along with an artist biography and a portfolio. I walked into the back and I saw the other entries. My heart dropped. I kind of knew in the back of my head that my work is amatuerish, but seeing the other pieces really nailed that into reality for me. And then I had to hang them next to these huge amazing pieces of artwork.  Logically, I know that it's a huge thing to even put myself out there to be judged. But in my heart, it's also crushing to have my fears come into realization.  I keep telling myself that it's just a step... but it's hard.  The curator was so sweet. She even told me that I won't be judged against the other en...

I'm letting my hair grow out. Probably. I kind of tend to say that all of the time, right before getting it cut. I've been teased in the past about how I can take my pants off, and they retain their shape on the floor. Still halfway standing up. I took a nap today, woke up, ate some dinner, watched a movie, and walked back into my bedroom. I was greeted with this -> And I promise they are clean sheets. I just washed them last night!! I have no idea how this happens, but I find it extremely amusing. I got a call today from Blue Morning Gallery. They have an opening and I've been asked to bring in three pieces of artwork. They have to be in the same medium though. Either 3 photographs, 3 drawings, or 3 paintings. I think this sucks! I don't really have 3 drawings that I'm that proud of, on hand. I've given the originals all away. Either way, whatever I choose and bring in will have to be "juried". But it's exciting nonetheless. I have tw...