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Wk 3: nurturing myself

December 23, 2015

Donated more clothes, fabric.

Threw away more stuff.

Released some items into the wild.

Rethought giving up most of my rocks.

Spouse agreed to my suggestion of postponing our winter holiday celebration until January, when hopefully the weather will be colder and more suitably seasonal.

Hope chest, relocated from writing nook to studio. New runner of apple green* flannel.

Space opened up wants me to delay changing anything for a while; sit with it first.

Have continued to watch (lots of) documentaries, usually after Spouse has gone to bed.

Tuesday ~ drawn to yellow lace.


*The color I call “apple green” (even though it more resembles leaves than apples) turns out to not just be really appealing to me, but… it somehow conveys “friendly” and even “welcoming”, neither of which are emotions, so I’m not quite sure how that works.

It’s the shade of green I intended my bedroom to be in 1983 (as a teenager), but my mother vetoed it. Having all the walls painted that color… probably would’ve been too intense for me, but not because the color was “too dark” (her criticism). I like colorways, not solid colors. I like variations in value. I like patterns, mixed. And I like everything to be in small doses.

= = =

It was only this week that it occurred to me that, if I like all of my own art to be small, or vignettes, or an overlooked corner of something, then… any stories I might tell… would also be small. Not epics. Not “the whole world changed, and here’s how it is now” stuff. I’ve always concentrated my energies on changing little things, observing what ripples outward.

= = =

My unconscious mind says I need to leave floor space open in my studio so I can dance. I can’t figure out what that means — the space available is too small to take more than a couple of steps. But it must be important, so I’m going to arrange it.

= = =

I’ve realized that my studio wants/needs to function as an extension of my imagination. Physical configurations can be used for me to work out not just artistic or design ideas, but philosophical, metaphysical, and spiritual ideas.

I never had an inviolate space before. (Before seeing P last year, I didn’t fully realize that I even needed an inviolate physical space — that’s how unthinkable the whole concept was.) I deeply need a place where I cannot be invaded. A place that functions as an analog to my bodymind, in fact.

A place where anything that I imagine… can be brought into being. And I can live among it. Further fueling my imagination and sense of possibility.

Recently I’ve been realizing that all those beleaguered years, my true self became a spore, with a rock-hard shell. We waited out all the bad times. It’s been 10 years since I’ve spoken to my parents, and it’s only just now that I feel I’ve achieved sufficient safety, healing, and solid life skills to… send out tendrils of hope and promise.

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