No. 79 - You get there when you get there

Caprice!

Welcome to the latest issue of Feed the Monster, a monthly art journal for the creative and imperfect. Come as you are.

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My husband David has characterized my present state of mind as “going through some choppy waters”, and that is exactly right. I think I’m mostly experiencing climate grief—among other things—and I promise I won’t use that term again because I don’t want to hear it myself. Or think about it. Or experience it. But here I am. Unfocused and crying a lot. The state of the world seems to be the back-drop for everything I see at the moment, rendering me incapable of fully enjoying trees, birds, the breeze, and my life in general.

This too will pass, as my Aunt Elsie used to say.

I wrote last month about falling off the face of the world, and it would appear that I’m not back on yet. I keep coming out to my studio and trying to force myself to do things—things I loudly claimed I was going to do and/or finish—but that approach doesn’t work.

You don’t say. Does that surprise you, Betty-Ann? Funny how long it takes to learn things sometimes.

In the last Taking Note post I managed to squeeze out, I included some crying faces that I’d painted in black ink on the backs of floor plans. Today in the studio, determined to play (a contradiction in terms?) instead of dutifully ticking something off my list, I thought maybe I’d do some more quickies on cheap paper. I got down on all fours and started pulling rolls of paper out from under my drafting table, to see if I had more expendable paper. Lo and behold, I found a roll of maps given to me by Ted Grant.

I tried doing portraits on the maps a couple of years ago, but the paper is too thin and untreated so the going was rough. As I pulled the maps out today I had the idea to do teary faces on them, as that was definitely my mood, and the map paper is more conducive to something less exacting than portrait painting.

Then I thought, “oh wait, teary faces on maps… that’s a perfect way to express (sorry, I’m using it again) climate grief.” Then I chuckled to myself, and I perked up.

Oh you sick fuck.

I chuckled because the minute I had the glimmer of a good idea—plus something I could use for a Feed the Monster post—I felt some excitement and a little spring in my step.

Em—excuse me—weren’t you all messed up about the state of world a moment ago? Is that all it takes to cure you? An art idea and a newsletter idea? Well, no. I’m not cured. I was in such a funk that all systems were down—it becomes a bit of a dog pile. A moment of creative inspiration allowed some air to get in.

Is it evil or wrong to use my fear, grief and pain for creative purposes? To maybe even feel enlivened by it?

NOPE.

When I started painting on the maps, I felt myself calming down: painting the tears put an end to my own tears. The dam was broken and some healing started to trickle in. So why didn’t I start painting weeks ago? Why did I need to agonize and flail around in the choppy waters for weeks before getting to this point?

You tell me.

Caprice?

You get there when you get there.

One of the helpful things that painting does is bring me into the present moment. When my persnickity brain is running the show, I get into trouble with fretting and worrying and trying to predict the future. This is a losing game. The winning game is remembering to do things that bring me into the present and/or my body, which amounts to the same thing because they both get me out of my HEAD.

And no, it doesn’t directly help the state of the world if I express myself by painting teary faces on maps. Or does it? It certainly helps me to feel better and to function better. And that has a ripple effect on those close to me, and beyond.

So say I.

More! More tears!

Speaking of grief…

My husband David P. Smith is kind of a big deal in the world of iconic t-shirts. His latest uses one of his own ink drawings, Grief Donkey.

Front and back, for those unfamiliar with t-shirts

Yours for $30 CAD (plus shipping)! 100% Cotton Gildan Ultra-Soft. Email David at davidpsmithmusic@gmail.com to order.

You could also own a 14" x 11" giclée print of Grief Donkey (on smooth medium weight watercolour paper) for $65 CAD (plus shipping).

EMAIL DAVID

Pssssst…

For those who’ve been asking about the download for my journaling workshop TAKING NOTE: Creating Ourselves Through Journaling, IT’S COMING! I’ll send out a special edition of Feed the Monster when it’s finished. THANKS FOR ASKING!

Previous posts of possible interest:

No. 78 - Falling Off the Face of the World

No. 55 – Seeking Square One

No. 75 - Born This Way

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