Feeling a little experimental...

I don't want to get my hopes up

that I am ready to dive into art making again,

but I managed to finish another journal page over the past few days,

and that is an accomplishment for me.

Inspired by Ray LaMontagne.

His voice and lyrics tap into the pain

and loneliness in a way no other musician has.

Is that sun ever going to break on through the clouds?

Shine down on all its glory onto me,

here upon the ground,

cuz I can't hear a sound except my own sad story

I get so tired staring at the wall

Weight so heavy and that mountain so tall

Is there no one who would catch me if I fall?

Its more than I could take

Wish I could fake it,

Pretend like i dont' know whats going on

Something's wrong; trying to hold on just a little longer.

Can you hear me?

Can you see me?

Changes

This is my brain/life right now.

I don't have many words.

Sketchbook Project 2012

Hi folks,

I've had a rough few months, but maybe see a tiny light poking

through the murky darkness I've been in.

What shocked me into realizing how much I was

spiraling was almost losing my job.

I've been at this company for 6.5 years.

I like everyone I work with, and it is a very good company

to work for overall.

I got written up TWICE in one week.

I have never been written up.

I cried and cried in my boss's office.

I thought that I was going to be out of a job,

and it scared the shit out of me.

My boss asked if I was suicidal (eep!!!)

She came and met with my therapist.

My boss is amazing.

She somehow believed in me when I couldn't.

She was willing to fight for me, stick with me,

when I could have been fired a long time ago.

I owe my life to her--and I mean that pretty literally.

So, for those who have been kind and sweet and

waited patiently for me to return, I thank you.

From the bottom of my heart.

I am oh so slowly starting to feel like doing art again.

Little things, in small increments.

Therapy has been a catalyst in inspiring me.

Listening to U2's "Running to Stand Still,"

(the entire song speaks to me)

I was inspired to paint this.

I brought it into therapy, and it took until the last 2 minutes

to show it. 

You know, its scary to show these vulnerable parts of you,

even if it is in painting form.

I explained that the river is the journey I'm on.

Its bumpy, and sort of dark.

The dark cloud pouring rain is how I feel most of the time.

And yet, at the bottom is this curious little bit.

Hearts. Hope. Light.

I originally was only going to do a small heart,

but ended up with three.

My therapist loved it.

She noticed how the hearts are connected,

that they may be smaller than the cloud,

but they still are a big part of the painting.

That the rain(tears) change once it hits the river.

Its funny how other people see what you do so differently.

My Nonni said that it is a bit "scary," but also       

  hopeful, like going from the unconscious to the conscious.

And, now onto the title of my post!

I gave up on my 2011 sketchbook, but I learned a lot.

I learned that I needed to pick a solid theme,

one where I knew I could keep a running idea throughout it.

"In Flight" didn't really work for me.

It was too broad, and I just did a hodgepodge of drawings.

Art House just announced the 2012 Sketchbook Project!!!

I now can pick out of any of the topics.

I now have a better idea of what I want/can do.

I now have more time to accomplish the project.

So, I signed up.

I'm proud of myself. I didn't deem myself a failure

because I didn't finish last year's.

I took it as a learning experience.

I am willing to try again.

If I don't finish it, then I don't.

But, I am starting 4 months earlier than before,

and I have a topic that I think suits me perfectly:

Fears and Tears

#1: I immediately thought of Tears for Fears, you know, the band

#2: This couldn't speak to what I am going through more perfectly.

I have so many fears, and the tears, well they come along with the territory.

What a great adjunct to therapy this will be.

I hope so at least.

Only getting worse...

Hey guys,

just a quick update since its almost been a month.

I am so tired of trying.

I got written up at work today, for substandard performance.

It is one step away from being fired.

How did this get like this?

How am I such a bad employee?

I'm so exhausted from crying,

and can't even turn to artwork when I feel like this.

My paints literally have dust on them.

So please, send me some good vibes.

My little man asleep in bubble wrap.

Not much art going on...

Just wanted to send a quick update

so you all don't think I dropped off blogland-I haven't!

I just have been stuck.

I think it is a combination of my stupid work schedule,

actually feeling things (unpleasant things) in therapy

(I hate feeling!!!!),

depression rearing its stupid head,

and way too much sleep.

Lets just say that this weekend all I did was sleep,

and then go to work. At 5pm.

I even cancelled my weekly babysitting gig,

the one thing that makes me truly happy is seeing those kids.

But I had bad dreams all night, and at some point took out

my mouthguard thingy used to prevent clenching of my teeth.

I woke up with my entire face feeling swollen, my teeth/jaw aching,

and a headache. Not to mention exhausted...at 10:00am.

TOO EARLY FOR ME.

I am a night person, but working at 1pm I don't think is good for me.

I can not get out of bed in the mornings to do anything.

I am lucky to be awake at 11. Usually 11:30-12:00.

I don't go to the gym, or get out of bed.

Then I get home late at night, don't eat dinner

because who wants to cook that late?

And stay up until 2ish, in which I eventually take an ambien.

whew

I'm sorry if this is an overshare, but I feel constantly guilty

that I can't get myself to do anything--especially artwork.

I feel like I'm letting myself down, but also my readers.

You know, all 4 of you :)

The one nice thing about working late is that I have many hours

to do art, except it obviously can't be painting.

I've avoided that, but tonight I did work on my colored pencil project.

The magazine ad which inspired me

First work in progress

Second work in progress

Colored pencil is such a slow medium if you want to do it well,

and I am trying to do it well! 

I picked a difficult picture to try out for my first time...

but so far I haven't gotten discouraged.

This is all I can manage to do.

I just am so frustrated/mad at myself because creating art

is the first and only thing that I truly love.

Yet, I run from any commitments, 

struggle with creating artwork for anyone--which has only been my family,

and have zero discipline/motivation.

I feel as if I will never ever make this more than a hobby.

I don't think or expect to really be an Artist and make tons of money,

but maybe find a little niche somewhere.

How can that happen when I can barely do it for myself?

The Winter Blues

It seems all I want to do lately

is huddle under my covers

and do nothing.

The cold, gray days,

The fact that my (30th!!!!!) birthday is in a few days,

and my work schedule being all wacky, has gotten me in a funk.

I just would rather sleep than deal with life,

and my poor baby art journal has suffered.

In fact I haven't opened my paints

in over a month! 

Until tonight.

Maybe because it was 65 and sunny,

Maybe because I told myself all day I

WOULD paint tonight...either way,

I busted them out.

I was inspired by a lyric the other day and

actually felt like I wanted to put that image in my art journal.

Here is a pencil sketch in my moleskine.

My art journal page is in the making, so stay tuned!

In other news, I finally ordered Andrea's 'Zine.

This is just a small glimpse of her work.

The zine is just filled with awesome drawings,

words and colors. I seriously could pore over it

with a magnifying glass (and it is needed, since there are teeny tiny words)

for hours. I am so glad I have her work that I can

just flip to whenever I want to be awed.

This is sort of a horrible picture, because the left side

is super light, and that is where the light is,

and the right side is dark (and more blue).

BUT, I saw this ad in a magazine and just knew

I needed to try and draw it.

Why do I feel compelled to draw these detailed things?

I perservered, and erased...and erased, but came up

with a sketch I liked.

Then I thought that this was a perfect drawing

to really try out colored pencils.

Like, serious trying...no willy nilly coloring!

I transferred my sketch onto tracing paper,

and transferred that onto Bristol Vellum paper.

I've done extensive colored pencil research because it fascinates me,

and Vellum is a cheap and good paper to use with CP's.

Colored pencils is a s-l-o-w medium.

This part you see? A good hour and a half!

And I am just a baby beginner...but it is fun

and so different than any other medium I use.

I have to consciously think of my color choices

ahead of time, layer very lightly,

layer some more...

and then some more.

I thought this would be fun because of the lack of colors.

It is overwhelming when you have an entire rainbow

of colors at your hand, but don't really know how to use them.

This just requires grays, dark blues and white.

So, keep watching for updates on this.

That is, if I can get out of my winter blues

I won!!!

I N-E-V-E-R win anything.

I seriously have the worst luck in the entire world.

I entered in my story of struggling with art

at A Little Imagination and a Pile of Junk to win a copy of

War of Art by Steven Pressfield.

And I won!

 I also got a wonderful halloween-themed card from

Eden, thanking me for support on her blog.

To me, it is not needed. She is amazing.

Her art is amazing!

Maybe this will help me out of my serious slump I'm in.

I've mostly been sleeping a lot.

I hope you stick around.

Ugly Inside

Ever have something happen in which

all you want to do is nothing at all?

Except, its impossible.

You dont want to lay,

You don't want to watch tv,

You don't want to read,

You don't want to listen to your favorite music.

You certainly don't want to make art.

You want to scream and cry,

and yet...you stare at a wall?

This happened to me last week.

After staring at my wall and feeling only worse,

I decided I would take a piece of paper

and a pen and scribble (literally) out my thoughts.

Lots of swearing.

Lots of writing about how I kind of hate myself.

Pity party to the max.

Then, I forced myself to put it down in my journal.

I knew by throwing paint all over it

and being as angry and self-hating in the form of art

would make me feel better.

This wasn't easy, mind you...but I had few options.

Layer one. If you look closely you can see my writing.

I needed crimson and black, and scraped it furiously on the page.

A few more layers later...

The finished product, many layers later.

I wish you could really see all the colors that shine through.

I used all of my "ugly" colors, because that is how I feel.

Like Quicksand

This is how I am feeling lately,

like I am dragging my body through quicksand

just to make it through work.

I have no energy or desire to do anything creative.

I hit a low last night after a very long and

stressful day at work.

I hope I can make i through the next

month or so.

I hope you lovely blog friends will

still be here if I ever get out of this

hole i'm in.

Still Struggling

I can't tell if I am just in the "ebb" part of 

art-making ebb and flow...

or if I am still fighting against the tide.

I have been painting a little bit lately,

but rather uninspired. I get some color

down here and there, and then lose interest

and inspiration.

The orange spread is done, and yellow mostly...but they have been
sitting there for weeks, and I'm still not loving them totally.

Details of another spread I'm working on.
I like the colors and texture,
but it still is just color on a page,
not cohesive.
This is one of my biggest problems,
to pull it all together.
What I do love was melting crayon wax over parts of the page!
I used a regular iron, but I read you are supposed to use
a quilting iron, probably because of the lower heat.
I may have spilled red, glittery crayon was
all over my beige carpet.
Woops.
 Now if I could be inspired, it would be so nice.

Thank you blogging world...

Your sweet words helped lift me up.

Today I sat down and wrote and wrote,

trying to get out my demons.

I cleaned the apartment that I had ignored for too long.

I ran errands.

I even painted a little.

It is a long road I'm on, I think,

but it helps to know that someone out there 

does care. Even if I never met you!

I just got an iphone...and the camera compared to

the blackberry I had is WORLDS better.

Plus there are lots of fun apps for it.

I saw this car at Target. Hysterical, eh?

I had a similar car when I was 17

88 Oldsmobile named George

My friends and I spray painted it for my graduation party

I drove it around like a proud badge of honor.

I cried when two weeks later my parents

took it to the car pound

:(

And a certain kitty named Jack

makes me feel better when he's all cuddly on my lap.

Art Interrupted

I know this has nothing to do with art or creating.

I need to get these words out somewhere,

because I don't feel like I can anywhere else

in the world.

I am barely holding it together,

and I'm not entirely sure why I feel this way.

I had my boss and my boss's boss worried about me today.

I can't let this interfere with work.

I need to get paid.

I'm scared

and lonely.

What do you do when you have no one to talk to?

I haven't picked up a paintbrush...

I haven't picked up a paintbrush in well over a week.

I feel myself sinking.

How do I pull myself up?

At a crossroad

Sigh. This is going to be a wordy blog post, but I need to get it out. In the end of August, 

my roommate will be moving back to NY for grad school. We have been living together 

in VA for 5 1/2 years now, post college. I love Charlottesville, and have no desire to 

move back to NY.

The problem is, I have become VERY comfortable in this life. We get along wonderfully, 

and in many ways are like a family. I have a cat, she has two cats, and we live quite harmoniously.  

I don't open up many people, I don't date, and I don't let my family in close to me. 

The one person who I can talk to anything about is my roommate. I can get mad at her, 

I can cry, we certainly do a lot of laughing. 

I don't know what is going to happen when she leaves. My therapist (sigh, yes my therapist) 

has been telling me that this won't be easy, but it is an important catalyst for change. 

I know she's right, but it I still avoid dealing with this at all costs.

Except, your mind sometimes goes off on its own.

Apparently it doesn't want to avoid it. I have spent this past week

fighting off tears all day at work, wanting to talk to

someone, and having no one to talk to. 

Who do you turn to when your one person is the problem?

I did something quite out of the ordinary.

I called my aunt. I had to leave work because I was

feeling like I was going to implode on myself. 

She told me the same thing my therapist said: This is exactly

the kick in the ass I need. I know, I know.

All it does is make me cry! And if you know me,

you know I don't cry. But, it was ok. My aunt told me

that WE will get through this together. That she will be 

there for me. (I cried. Again) She gave me an assignment for the weekend.

I need to open my mind, and write down a list of things

that I don't want, and a list of things I do want. 

Well, writing down things I don't want is easy.

I don't want to move back home

I don't want to be a miserable, depressed mess the rest of my life

I don't want to be lonely.

What do I do want? How can I answer that if I don't know 

who I am? What passions do I have? Up until a year ago,

I would have told you I have none. 

My family keeps telling me that I have talent,

that my paintings are good.

But, they are family, family is biased.

I love it. I love putting paint on a page.

Ok, I love it. What does that mean? That doesn't mean I am talented

It doesn't mean anything.

This is hard. Why can't I be naturally gifted like my brother?

Why can't I have a burning desire to create despite

obstacles? Is it fear? Does it matter anyway? 

This is my life.

Sometimes you just gotta force yourself...

To sit down and put paint to the page. This is what I did tonight. I had everything a girl could want: Awesome music set up, a glass of wine, paint and paper ready to go, a video from Carmen to inspire me, and yet...I did NOT want to do it! I'd rather stare into empty space apparently. I decided that I have had enough of this creative, apathetic slump! I put on Bill Withers-Live at Carnegie Hall (SO GREAT), grabbed my wine and picked out some of my favorite blues and greens. It does feel good to be creative again. I don't know if this will hold, but I am glad I made myself do it. Apparently its just like going to the gym, most of the problems with me is the getting there. Once I'm there, I usually am ok.

I miss the days when I used to come home from work, bursting with energy at all the possibility! Now the possibilities seem overwhelming, so the easiest thing to do is avoid them. This is a trend in my life. Hmm...

Anyway, this is my first spread in the journal I made in Julie Prichard's class a long time ago. I am using this journal just to experiment new things. I hope, anyway.

 

In a down swing

Sigh. I don't know if its this time of year, just a "down" time creatively, or depression rearing its ugly head--but I have NOT felt like creating for the past week or two. I spent most of this past weekend in bed watching bad Lifetime movies. I didn't pick up a single art supply. Tonight, watching Glee (Who LOVES Sue?!), I decided to decorate one of my half-finished pages in my Experiment journal. Its messy, and filled with angry strokes...because that is how I felt at the moment.

What sucks is that I have to finish this painting for my mom by Christmas. Its been sitting un-finished for a few weeks now. I have another friend who wants me to paint something too! At this rate I will never get it done. Oh well. I hope soon this lack of creating will LEAVE ME ALONE!

A sneak peek of my mom's painting

 

Depression

It sucks the life out of you. It makes you want to do absolutely nothing. It turns that inner critic's volume level up to 11. You can't possibly imagine anything good coming of your life. I think I've lived with a low level of depression for so long that this is normal. I never understood/was envious of people who knew what they wanted to do with their lives. I can't remember ever knowing what I wanted. I have followed the path that you are supposed to; I have gone off to college, graduated, found a job, moved away from home....and am paying the bills. That is life, right? I even have a kitty, even after the loss of my first kitten, my first pet as an adult.

Hugo was such a precious little kitten. Absolutely gorgeous. I had him for 5 months, and the last few were spent at the vet trying to figure out why he had chronic diarrhea. On January 7th, 2008, I took him in the vet's for exploratory surgery since the vet found a mass on his belly. He was 8 months old. She said she thought it was probably scar tissue from the worms he had (SO GROSS), or less likely, he ate something that is stuck in his digestive tract. Either way, that would cause the diarrhea. I did ask "Can it be cancer?", because when you hear "mass", you think of cancer. She said she couldn't rule it out, but it is highly unlikely in a kitten. I agreed.

That morning, I shipped him off to the vet, waved goodbye, and waited anxiously to the end of the work day so I could pick up my little angel and take him home. AND BE BETTER. I couldn't WAIT until he felt like playing again. Until he was a kitten again.

Three hours later. A phone call from the Vet. Her assistant called me and goes "Dr. Raab would like to talk to you." UH OH. I knew this wasn't good. Who calls directly from a surgery room? Immediately, I could tell in her voice, something was wrong.

"Dawn. I'm so sorry. Hugo's mass turned out to be a tumor. There were so many surrounding that one, that we could not do anything. We had to put him down."

....

....

Silence.

I didn't understand. A kitten? Cancer? Dead? What? I mumbled "uhh ok...what do i need to do?" Or something to that effect. She mentioned I could come in to see him if I wanted.

"No thank you."

I hung up. Told my boss that I had to go home as I was shaking and trying not to bawl in front of him. Called my roommate. Went home and cried on the couch. Could this be real? I called the vet back after a tortuous 20 minutes. I would go see him. I mean, I didn't say goodbye, or even an "I love you" when I saw him last. I figured I'd see him later that day. This is the closest to death I have ever been. I have been very lucky, all my family members are healthy.

The next hour is a blur. I forced myself to leave the surgery room because my eyes were so swollen and my head was bursting in pain. I did not want to leave Hugo. Maybe he'd wake up!! He looked so peaceful, like he was sleeping. Except the tiniest drop of the blood dried on his pristine white chin. The technicians must have missed that. I just didn't look there.

I stumbled out of the room to find my vet waiting for me. She had all of her stuff with her, like she was ready to go home, but was waiting for me. She dropped everything and gave me a big hug. She told me "I wish I could have given you more time with him."

Even now, that puts a lump in my throat.

I still miss him.

But now, I have Jack. He is also sweet, but in a different way. He is mischevious, and afraid of every damn thing. I love him, and I didn't think I would. At least not to the extent I loved Hugo. Hugo was my first pet as an adult, and someone I could pour all my love into. Jack, though, has been fun. He is healthy. He loves to cuddle. He's not gorgeous like Hugo was, but he is pretty. And funny.