I have a compositional problem
I start making something, a quilt or a painting,
and I don’t know where to go with the composition or why
I ask why would I do this or that and is it a good reason or what can I do without a reason, what comes naturally, flows, or what will people like, or what is the artist thing to do, how can I be consistent and have an explanation that carries through the work, the series. I have none. I’m frozen. Inspiration lost.
So I put the work aside and pick it back up a couple months later, do a couple things on it until all those feelings come back.
It’s the same with yoga every damn time I’m on the mat. I start out wanting it. I get tired or there’s something I can’t do or the teacher is pushing us hard. I get discouraged. I get angry. I collapse. Sometimes I bounce back. Sometimes I don’t. Sometimes I put my face down and cry for seconds. And the teacher that doesnt help with alignment or encourage or really pay attention anymore, just pushes…I know, ignore all that. It’s too hard, I look around and how are all these people doing this? This is not me. This is not me.
Negativity. Poor self talk.
No one cares.
We all want someone to care. Until they do. Then I don’t want to be obligated.
I just haven’t met the right person.
And why do I think about being with someone a the time? I wish I didn’t.
I wish I were in my zone again like last year when I was dying fabric. I didn’t feel time. Now somehow I have no time. I can’t get anything done. I need one day of prep before I can dye. I also need to clean, do laundry, be with friends. And sometimes when I have off work I’m too tired to do anything. Sometimes I’m too sad, thinking about him over and over. I’m not good enough for him. He doesn’t want me to know him. He only wants one thing and he doesn’t take time to satisfy me. And maybe it’s too late. It’s my responsibility to be satisfied. It’s partly in my head, my fault. I’m not confident enough. I’m not that kind of woman. This is not me. This is not me.
So,self help, mindfulness is just like another religion. Cliches.
I realize it is all just a decision you make for yourself.
You need something that flows. This is not me. The religion the practice, the ideas. Are not me. I am the flowing part. The part with no thought,no words. Perhaps I am the action, the life force. Burdened by thought. Bend, twist, drop that load, this is not me. Whatever I am carrying. The thought. The guilt, the obligations. Be very grateful for those women in your life. Go ahead, get angry. He understands. Then be embarrassed. Hide away. Return. Rinse. Repeat. It will never ceases. This is not me. Pummelled by the waves, caught in the current. Swim harder. Get away. Become a fish who doesn’t know to know it’s in water…