unravelling

after talking to tod for what seemed like hours last night about how
how to move this stuff of mine
how to get a truck of stuff and my vehicle there
without 2 people driving 2 separate vehicles
and hence not being able to share the drive to let the other person rest
how to fit it all into a 16 ft truck
so we aren't driving what looks like a semi truck (22ft)

i got up in the wee morning
and tiptoed into the basement
and started opening all the taped up boxes
and making new trash piles

and part of me feels sick
and part of me thinks
there is always more

i remember a woman, i call her an aberration,
i met her camping in south dakota
in a closed for winter campsite.
i believe i have written about this before here? or is that
in my memoir i dont remember

this woman was dying
of cancer
and emptied her home and life and bought a little rv
and lived in campsites
she was going to travel until she died

we had a magical night
and her words after hearing my story were this:
trust in the universe
you will always be provided for
everything can come to you for free
you will be taken care of

in a strange way she was so right about a lot
many of my art materials were begotten for free
sweat and toil not counted
i was able to live here as a caretaker for five years
for free

i've gotten my clothes at the dump
for free

inspiration
free

that woman, who let me camp on her plot of campsite for the night
because i was lonely and afraid of the desolation on a cold wintry night
disappeared before i woke up
i call her an aberration
and i've never forgotten her

and now i find i want to let go of as much as i can
and i don't understand why
it makes no sense to me
and it scares me
sickens me
but all that stuff also scares me
and sickens me

there is no going back.
i dont want to do this when i think about
how scary it is
but in my list of stay or go
the stay side is bleak
short
while the go side
is full of good things
save for the one line about being overruled by panic again
and having to climb out of that dreadful mind dungeon all over

gotta go and reinvent myself and allow and trust
its a big damn deal and i'm just now realizing it
if i didn't have this blind sense that it will be alright
regardless of if i dont have my art materials, my props,
my tools, i would freeze up and quit.

love/hate/letting go

the driveway in winter

Curious what life will be like in Oregon. A little concerned about winters there. It wont be that much wetter than here, but it will be in liquid form not snow. Here we probably have more sunny winter days that we have summer! There, not so me thinks. But there tod and I imagine finally having enough stimulation to keep us from drifting in ennui. And we wont be stuck on a mountain all alone. Sounds crazy that I'm finally tired of it here. When people come here they cannot believe how beautiful it is. Now I see only the ugly. I don't see a two million dollar home, I see a beast of burden. Always needing tending too. A poorly built monstrosity that needs a complete overhaul and even then its just not a good design. I hear echos of the noisy intrusive gardener. I see a driveway I never know if I will get up and out of in slushy icy snowy winter. Dangerous curvy roads that make doing anything not worth doing. I see isolation and hardship all around me. I see a little town that is full of 2nd home owners, old wealthy retirees, or soccer moms that have no clue about living within their means.

I will admit, this has been a wonderful place to live these last five years. I have rested. I have made art. I have learned much and stepped into artists shoes. I can't denounce it all. Many of you if you were to see where I am living would think I am bonkers to hate it. Tod hates it. We are dying here. I guess there is no such thing as perfection. Doneness. That is life. I grow a little weary thinking about constant change, but I forget that not ALL change means so much effort.

In a good way bad way we have forever changed. We wont just go back into society and be normal. I gag thinking about filling up my life with stuff. I hope to god I find like minded people who aren't pot smokers. Drinkers. Partiers. Materialistic zombies. Or cultish. Or total vegetarian liberal ralliers. I don't have a clue where I fit in. I care about things but not really. Does that make sense? I believe there is an order to life that is going to happen regardless of if you do this or that. I'm not into green EVERYTHING. Conserve but don't get your booty in a tight squeeze about it. I'm not into a cause. I have no beliefs. Who am I?

*just in case a new reader is reading this, keep in mind i only care take here. were i to have my own place in the boonies i think i would be happier. i can't live my life the way i want to here. while thankful for the opportunity to live rent free in exchange for upkeep i lose privacy and freedom here and have little opportunity to entertain and create a LIFE here. Hence the desire to move on. It doesn't help this truly is a tourist town and it has been impossible to get to know anyone.

getting vs ridding by paula

I'm at the home stretch of getting rid of what I deem burdensome materials that wont be going with us on our cross country move. I've done the get rid of what I own things on a massive scale a few times but that was all personal, home stuff. I've never had to get rid of art materials. What a mixed bag of emotions it is, much different than personal belongings. Heck maybe it isn't that different after all. There are the 'things' that hold memories. Unlike stuff people gift to you, photos, personal letters and just decorative stuff that is unique, expensive and seemingly valuable; found objects also hold value, memories and possibility for that one day you might need it.

While I've never considered myself a hoarder, I have gone through periods in life of having way too much stuff. In the late 80's early 90's when I was making, for me at least, good money, I went through that period of painting every room different, shopping until I dropped and constantly redoing, re-buying and re arranging things. Constantly? More like obsessively. I'm happy to say I'm done with that. Give me unlimited funds and a house and I know I would never be tempted ever again to fill it up with stuff. I would never need more than a few dishes, towels, pieces of furniture etc. It feels best when I'm not surrounded by too much stuff.

Art materials, that has been another matter. At nearly five years of art making, I have collected enough stuff and now, gotten rid of enough, to know I don't ever want to do this again. It is for one, just too damn hard to get rid of it all. I've spent two full weeks, 12 or more hour days ridding myself of stuff, needing help from Tod only a few times to help move or lift something. It is cathartic but after awhile, wasted time. The getting was fun. I have memories, clear memories of how and when I got this or that. Holding a rusty piece of useless nastiness can bring back nostalgia of when tod and I found it. And yes, were I to stay here I probably would have used it in time, but the time has come to decide what has the most possibility now and what might take another 5 years to use and if its worth it to keep.

I am slightly fearful that I wont ever make the same art again as I continue ridding myself of supplies. Unless I suddenly start selling oodles of clocks, I have at least 50 rr clocks to move and up until two days ago I still had a crate full of naked rr plates for future art pieces. I've thrown all but 6 bare ones out and have 14 welded ones left to finish off my series of 100 clocks. Mostly I'm keeping those six because they work best in weighing down wood that I glue to the backs of my wall art. What else would I use to weigh things down? Am I really bringing those just for THAT?

So. 50% of my stuff is gone. 50% of the work is done. 50% of me has no idea what I'm doing and what my future in the art world will be. 50% of me is fearful about that and 50% of me doesn't even care anymore what happens. I just want to move on and find more LIFE.

progress report by paula

Moving isn't that interesting to talk about, rather the process of it. I will say, I am getting into being lighter. Things you are certain you must have suddenly become obsolete when you keep looking at the marked out space you want to permit yourself. We thought we'd rent a 25ft truck. Then we hoped I could get slimmed down enough for a 22 if they made that size. Now my goal is a 16ft truck, but now we are not sure which is more cost effective a diesel larger truck or gas smaller. I've never had 12 hour days go by so fast (okay when I had to clear out my 3 bdrm rental home in arizona and when I decided to hit the road and find myself I did this too but it's different this time cause its ALL art shit)

Why the rush when we are giving ourselves until mid oct to leave? Timing my friend. We lucked out and house people didn't come last week which means the gardener wasn't here which means I had FREEDOM and was/am able to make noise, run up and down our basement stairs and fill up the garage until it's bursting. Every free moment I have is all about getting it all done so then I can concentrate on selling some art, locating possible places to live, getting personal affairs in order and taking some time to understand just a little more about Oregon. Tod and I aren't feeling a huge pull to know it all now, the element of surprise...of just being with it and letting ourselves be steered to whatever is going to be, feels better.

Tod started feeling under the weather yesterday so his stuff is still pretty much waiting to be dealt with. He has a huge float tank, a pinball machine and a VW vegi van to contend with. The van isn't safe enough or running strong enough for us to take it...hasn't been driven in well over a year and a half. Not easy things to dispose of but I know it will be a relief when he is free from this stuff.

Had a few more contacts from craigslist regarding a question I had about finding scrap wood in oregon. Have met two artists already who though they say they aren't full time artists (they sound serious though about making art), they have supplied me with some general facts, feelings and a sense that my work might do better there than here. I get happy when I think about the possibility of more of artists interaction.

It's funny, I'm the strong one right now. Confident. Looking so forward to just getting out of here you can't know and Tod is the one seeming a little 'shaken' at times. He knows we need to leave...he knows we are dying a slow death here. He hates it here too but it's a big deal for him even if its exciting. And I know when we get there HE will be the one feeling confident while I get the shakes. None of my panic stuff is here. Now. My vision isn't twitching as sometimes happens when I get really stressed. I'm not feeling dizzy and vulnerable and afraid. Yet tell me there is a taxi ride I HAVE to do which involves driving people more than 15 miles and I can already feel myself get lightheaded and afraid I'm going to loose my mind. I just hope when I get to Oregon I can be stable and not panic and not fold into myself and be a pussy. I think having friends will make a big difference. I think having more possibility of little tidbit jobs to do will keep me from feeling trapped like I would in full time job. And the plethora of art happenings as compared to here, surely I can get back to selling art more frequently as I was when Stowe was booming with people before everyone tightened their traveling belt.

So that's my boring update. I have made huge progress in the basement and hope by next week to focus more on fun aspects such as making a MOVE O METER for the blog and finding some creative ways to sell art. I sold three clocks and candle holders in the last week, it was just what I needed to feel like I'm going to be alright. Long as I can pay my half of this move and have a little left over to get me going I am going to have faith and not get caught up in fear.

And now I'm off to the dump!

who knows by paula

What doesn't look like too much progress is really 8 hours worth of sifting through piece after piece of stuff and taking it up and out into the garage. The double garage that has a golf cart and house car and tons of shit in it for the house maintenance, is now also completely full of more stuff for craigslist people and dumpage. I started getting rid of things a week ago tuesday, day after day filling my car up. None of it personal possessions...all of it 5 years worth of art/scrap accumulation.

One has to stop and think....especially THIS one, here I am, a total minimalist and yet I have a plethora of stuff for art. It goes against everything about me. I kind of resent it right now. I'm starting to wonder how else I can make art and not have to have so much stuff. I can't help but wonder and fantasize about how the next batch of art in the next place might turn out. Is this what happens when artists relocate? Do you start to reevaluate everything about the process and does it change?

Just tonight Tod and I caught the fantasy cloud of living on the road instead of moving into a city. I did it when I left arizona...maybe this time it would be even better having a buddy along who also doesn't seem to need or want all the trappings that most people have in life. When I think about living in a rental house somewhere vs living in my car, living in a tent...renting little motel rooms sometimes...working odd jobs and hiking...I get more excited. What are we doing? I have no idea. All I know is there is NO going back. We've given our notice, we can move when we want and we can do what we can we just need to know what we want. Money is probably less of a problem that I think it is. If you had six months to live what would you do? Stay in your home and breath in the same air or go out and be in the world? Life is so bizarre. We see and watch what others do and usually follow loosely or directly those lines. It is mind boggling when you decide to think outside of your own box and come up with a different plan. How can I make art out there? I'm used to so much stuff accompanying that process yet I'm starting to feel suffocated by it, maybe because I know for awhile yet I will still be if not always, peripatetic in my living situations and my body is telling me it isn't enjoying all this work. My back hurts like hell every day and my feet swell, legs get restless....I hate admitting I can't do what I used to do even 10 years ago.

Right now this is like jumping off of the cliff, aiming for the water that you can't see...trusting and hoping you land without hitting a hard surface that kills you. I felt like I was 'home' when I landed in Vermont in 2004. I camped here for about 3 weeks before getting a place to live. It was right. It was magical. Things happened and they happened FAST. I'm ready for that again. Ready to be out there and taking it day by day moment by moment and living without constraints. Tod is too. Portland? Still feels good....roaming instead? Feels a little better but who knows. Thats the beauty of it or the horror of it depending on the hormone or brain cell that assimilates the thought.

A Few Minutes of Sanity by Tod

People have been asking how we came to this decision. We have been looking at places to move to since last year. It wasn't as much of a snap decision as I made out to be in the previous blog post. We looked at ME,Boston area, Western MA, Upstate NY, NC, Alabama, KY, TX, Santa Fe, Taos area, Sedona, CA, Seattle, considered parts of Canada. Portland seems to have the best blend of climate, population density, artist community/market. NYC, Chicago, San Francisco and Santa Fe are the best art markets for selling, but we don't want to live in or near them.

There are other smaller places with possibly better communities, but they are further from a major gallery markets and somewhat isolated. Most of these communities have big compromises that people seem to overlook. Paducah KY, which is often mentioned, happens to be the home of the largest uranium enrichment plant in the world (I don't know the process, but it does sit on a river, so I assume water is used. It would also be a good tactical target, since it would take years to build another one). Santa Fe looked like a possibility even with the high rents until we found out it sits at 7,200 ft! I'm sure there are places we missed, but we want to be in an area with at least 2+ million people that doesn't feel like a dense city. Seattle is high on the list and this way we have access to both since it is only a 3hr. drive between the two. I did spent a month in Seattle earlier this year and loved it. If Portland doesn't work out, our backup plan is to continue up to the Seattle area.

And yes, we realize that this is a tremendous risk. We feel it is more of a risk to the long term quality of our lives to stay here and whither. Besides, the unemployment rate is only 12%! Much better than Detroit (which made our top 5).

Six Minutes of Life Changing Insanity by Tod

Somehow some part of me managed to squeeze off the blood flow to the rational centers of my brain this morning just long enough to make a six-minute phone call. Maybe that’s the physiological mechanism of creativity (or insanity). A little valve upstream of a small capillary bed malfunctions and closes off the blood supply to the rational part of the brain. Anyhow, it happened just long enough this morning for me to quit my life. How do you give up living rent free in a rarely occupied 30 acre estate bordering 2,500 acres of pristine, trail laden Vermont forest in a town so beautiful that piles of billionaires and business titans find themselves permanently relocating their families here? Easily, just relieve yourself of the burden of rational thought for six minutes. Couples toil up the care taking food chain for decades to get a gig like this. No one leaves unless the house is sold or they are asked to. We bucked the trend. As with most of the interesting stuff that’s poked me in my life in recent years, P-nut is to blame.

There is a new part of my irrational brain that believes there is a much better life out there beyond this safe time capsule of a town. Paula has managed to saturate me with such a powerful hit of art smelling salts that I am no longer satisfied with a quiet, peaceful life. I woke up and found myself bored. Atrophied. I’m ready for stimulation, action, art, PEOPLE. My God there’s nobody here. Get me near some fucking people. I feel like I’ve been left unplugged in some forgotten place . . . ‘Hmmm look at this thing I found in the attic. I guess it doesn’t work. Oh look, it just needs to be plugged in. Bzzz. Brrr. Chuhnk. Wunka-wunka-wunka-wunka. Wow, this thing’s incredible! It works perfectly. Geez, I could have really used this a few years ago. Wish I knew it was up there’

Oh, lookee over there, across the country, a big ol’ power socket. Hmm, never noticed that before. I guess it's time to toss my comfortable life and go check it out.

the time has come by paula

To leave this quaint, tiny, safe, quiet, beautiful tourist town of Stowe, Vermont and move clear across the country to.....


Portland Oregon! Tod gave our official notice to the home owners we care take for. A sliver of us were almost hoping to be asked to stay, with pay through the winter(as it stands we do this in exchange for free rent and thats it)...probably a bigger sliver for Tod and just a microscopic sliver for me as I have already started the very tedious and challenging challenge of discarding and packing my art life up. It was a quick, easy conversation and when Tod got done talking to them he came downstairs and looked a little pale, a little strange...lighter and perhaps not in his body. I can see he is excited. In my mind we are already gone. We have left. I wont be pale and sickly looking until we GET there and I have to be trapped somewhere again. Movement seems to behoove me. Four walls do me in. Reality...jobs...housing...getting my art bearings and probably starting all over again in regards to showing art and slipping into a gallery...all things to be reckoned with.

We will make friends there dammit. We will get and offer up support within a community of people that we have yet to find here. We have a completely new life ahead of us and this time its a clean slate. I'm not moving into tod's life like I did here. This will be our thing, separate and together that we are creating for ourselves and each other. I would not even be able to do this were it not for Tod fronting me the moving/living money. I've never in my life had to rely on someone, nor have I wanted to. I feel lucky for this opportunity and hopeful I can make an art life happen there.

I have added Tod to my blog administration, for the few of you who got turned onto his blog last winter (which he has let get dusty and old) you know what a damn good writer he is (found in vermont), so he is now going to tell his side while I tell my side. Side by side. We hope you enjoy living vicariously through two people who are going out into the unknown.

At present we think we are leaving mid October. The goal is to have a place to rent Nov 1. Loose plans are: renting a truck or pod and heading out, possibly stopping in arizona to tie up loose ends of my old life there. Hoping while on the road to get more serious about finding homes to rent so when we get there we will have a week of looking and move in. It's a lot to do, think about, find out about etc. If you or someone you know lives in the Portland area would love to know if they are interested in helping steer us to decent neighborhoods etc. I will post more of our life demands later :)

back to those boxes.....

good stuff

Yesterday I sold a set of my RR Nut Candle Holders as well as one of my favorite clocks, 'Erosion'. That clock always reminds me of Arizona and Utah, it has that sandstone gritty been in the sun and weather feel, takes me back to living in the desert and makes me melancholy. Made my day!!!!

I seem to be taking a break from art making, planning my big THING that I can't talk about here just yet. I've mentioned it on facebook only because it's more private and until a few things have been taken care of (any hour now), I can start blabbing about it here.

I can feel discombobulation happening when I don't make art and always a little fear about distancing myself from that creative outlet. It's grounding to be working on something but not when everything else in life is chaotic. Breaks are always good though, for as scary as it continues to be to live an artists life it is a journey I've never thought I'd take, nor could I have imagined what a crash course in self growth it can be. I've learned more about myself these last five years making art than I have in all my years put together. So. More journeying coming up and looking forward to sharing it here!

whoo hoo

Yay, a clock sale!

ceramic and berries

Tod and I didn't think we would get many blackberries this year as we have had tons of rain. Just this week some of the plants have perked up and the sickly drowned looking nubs have turned into beautiful black bursts of interesting flavors ranging from granny smith apples to welches grape juice. The land near where we care take/live at is loaded with them, in the past we have gotten gallons and gallons of them for weeks on end. Happy to have the few that are showing, and even happier to have found another crop of sorts....ceramic conductors in the woods. We could go get buckets of those as well if we were willing to continue the hard work of digging through thorny brush and pulling up rotted wood from the ground, tugging on lines and lines of rusted barb wire. It took us a few hours to get this little bucket filled, I would guess there are about 50 of them in there. I think they are absolutely beautiful and feel good about saving them from obliteration. Things are getting torn up and built up here too, and it is just a matter of time before the land is stripped and all of this will be bull dozed into a landfill.

surrender

massive changes coming soon. gimmi another week and i will gladly share all. suffice to say i am now in surrender mode. i am willing to let go of a lot, willing to completely change my work, how i work what i work on. willing to reinvent myself as an artist and person. i'm so tired of fighting myself and being in a bad mood and being afraid that its time to jump in head first.

hey

i had my finger on the delete for twitter but realized its just me being ocd. purge. a material bulimic of sorts. really, there is nothing more satisfying than purging.

in my mind facebook is already gone. blog. everything. in my mind i imagine taking everything to the dump, trip after trip in my little car. being left with as little as possible. no more 400 pound tumor hanging from my body. thats what all this art stuff feels like when i feel stuck. a huge fat tumor that i have to lift up in order to walk around. i have no idea why everything feels like it has come to a complete stop. i've experienced this several times before. a purge helps. but this time the house is full of people and i can't be hauling shit out of here. i still feel bad physically too. that food poisoning thing really knocked me down hard, my little ph balance sticks are jumping up and down from acid to alkaline like a child on a pogo stick.

i keep talking about deleting this and that but i dont. i wont. not yet. when i stop to think about it, this blog and facebook have been little tiny lifelines. sometimes they feel like arteries, coursing with rich blood that feed my soul. it isn't easy for me to stay constant. i notice i have longer and longer periods of normal communications but i always try to sabotage them when i feel conflicted. i'm realizing that it could take a lifetime to learn how to be a normal person. how to have normal relationships. i'm sure i wont ever be normal but i'm at least walking towards that directions now instead of away from it.

there is a sure feeling of time running out that didn't exist before. my bank account balances are almost at nil. i look for jobs. i try to imagine myself doing what little is offered in the want ads...knowing standing for even 4 hours or sitting and being trapped somewhere is going to cause more damage physically and mentally than the spartan check would provide. i get so angry at myself for being obviously so stupid that i cannot see what it is i should do. with my art. with my life. just as i re-invented my life and became and artist i expect that i should be able to invent a way to make it. every time i go down the road often traveled and visit where other artists go i glaze over. i've tried many things and know better than to beat my head against a door that isn't budging. its why i don't keep doing the same little venues and shows. some may judge that, but only i know what i have experienced and know what feels good. right. tod mentioned that donald trumph once told someone 'never loose your momentum'. i feel i lost mine, as i know most of you did as well when all the financial doings went down. there is a feeling of waiting for things to come around and be how they were but i know things have changed and we must change with it.

it helps to know things about yourself. i know for example that i cannot follow a rule. a formula. if you tell me to do something i will do it but not how you tell me to do it. you might think i'm being difficult but there is something that happens in my brain that makes me veer off and do it my way. tell me to write down 15 things and i will manage to somehow do it differently than you ask. maybe its the gene that makes kids cut school like i did. the gene that makes you go against everyone in society and makes life feel so much harder. at least i never became a criminal. i can at least follow enough of the 'rules' in life to be a good citizen to a point.

but what makes a good artist? being submissive? acquiescing? do people have to like me and understand me? how much of me matters when it comes to what i make? i often feel like everyone hates me. i know thats just me hating me. i often feel like everyone thinks i'm a bitch or hard to get along with. in reality i'm usually pretty amiable. i have no idea why people interact with me. i have no idea who i am. i'm paula. a practically middle aged woman with nothing but a desire to earn enough money to take care of myself via my art. a desire to have interaction with people and help others once i can take care of my own ass. i'm paula. a person who has been repairing years of damage to herself during this seemingly long but surely short span of six years that she left her old life and zoomed into the unknown. i don't want a lot. don't need a lot. just trying to find my way like you have or are. a crab coming out of its shell.

i fled

Yesterday when I woke up I still felt like I could vomit as easily as that. Friday morning I had my last puke and just wanted to be done being sick. Didn't help my stupid period was 2 weeks late and my body was just not in strong mode, didn't help I wasn't home and could lay on my sofa and have tod administer soothing foot massages. (I will say tod's mom was an angel running to the store and getting me things, I would have laid to rot otherwise) With every ounce of oomph I had I cleaned up and packed up and two hours later hit the road for home. I didn't care anymore if I saw anything else. No more studio looks, no more thoughts about where to show art, no more walking in nature and enjoying neighborhoods, I wanted out and I wanted out NOW.

The last straw was the neighbor yelling at her dog all the time. There is nothing more annoying and pitiful than hearing someone who can't control their own animal, well yeah there is, being that person, but being in your own home and hearing your neighbor do it is very obnoxious. It sounded like the little bastard even bit at her, she let out a horrible OW and more yelling. Who wants to hear THAT while in bed?

I'm starting to think Tod and I are ruined. We don't want to live next to people and listen to them. We dont want them listening to us and our autistic strange sounds we make. Don't want to worry I'm making too much noise with my tools either. Truth be told thats one of the worst things when the house owners are here, we can't do our 'calls' to each other and make much noise. Yeah, I'm picky. Life will never be easy if I have such strange criteria. But seriously. The art studio I mentioned, I get that I wont find one in a nice area. I either live in a decent place and have my studio where I live or I have to travel to it in a shithood.

Right now I feel waves of revulsion now when I think of MA. I don't wanna go there again. I'm reminded of how the West Coast is so much easier than the east. The East is so damn conservative. And people are just too independent. People can live in the same areas for years and not really know their neighbors anymore than in passing. It's filthy rich in MA. That depressed me. I'm thinking wtf is wrong with me? How did so many people get so much money that they all have big ass homes and cars and blah blah blah. (oh yeah, they work 9-5 for 20 years or more) It's a strange strange place, I liked at first, by dint of it being different. But I know I can't live there. I need open sky. I need less trees and less working stiffs. I don't know what I need. I need to quit thinking about this. I don't have the energy right now to sit up straight. Glad to be home to my basement after all. Glad to see Tod and know I'm not alone and I'm not the only picky person.

I will say, I feel like I'm fighting a little depression. When I got home I thought fuck it. I'm not an artist. I'm never going to make it. I have all this shit. All this art. I show a few at a time in the gallery. Thats it. I'm at my wits end about what next. WHAT NEXT WHAT NEXT WHAT NEXT. It's been about 5 years now of being out there, showing it, making some solid bodies of work....and now, now the story is getting old. I need something new. I need some life blown into my art career. Nothing personal painters, but right now I feel like its a painters world and that is what RULES. I'm sick of it right now. It's all I see in galleries and magazines. I could scream. It just means I haven't found my people. My place. I wanted to just throw everything away and hit the road again with nothing but a tent and stove. But I can't, because I know I live to make art. I really do. It's just eating at me again about making more more more and filling up every inch of space with stuff that needs a home. What am I not seeing? What am I not getting? Tod and I feel like we need to think outside of the box in a big way to find a place for ourselves. And yet too much thinking often just leads to frustration and nothing happening. You've heard it here all before. Just another bout of remembering hit me.

miserable in MA

I don't think I've ever had food poisoning in my life until now. I was out looking at a studio on Tues. and was offered some juice....didn't taste right to me but I guzzled it. 15 hours later I was puking every two hours and wanting to die. It's now fri and I hope I had my last puke this morning. At least I finally feel like I can put something in my mouth and keep it in there. I still want to sleep and not move but I know if i do have a bug I need to get up and walk around, get things moving. It is finally beautiful out too, the hot humidity and rain that has been going on practically since I got here over a week ago are gone.

I did say in the previous post I'm done looking for studios but obviously I wasn't as i had one more to look at on Tues. I really liked the women, one was a carpenter and the other makes paper mache animals that vary from small to large, regal to bizarre. Good stuff and great people. They wanted me and I wanted them but Tod and I decided the area wasn't going to be a good fit. I know we can't have everything, the typical artist studio set up is in a shitty area, and while this wasn't a crime ridden hell hole, we both realized after alot of online searching that we wouldn't get any quality of lifestyle that we want in our day to day. Still no public transport other than catching a train to Boston, all blue collar (and I can say this because I am Irish Catholic), and almost completely Irish Catholic population. Tod and I are pretty out of the box and we know we wouldn't bode well. Were talking Plymouth Rock and boxing and more dunkin donuts than ANYWHERE on the planet.

Look, we know we are looking to leave paradise..who doesn't want to live in Vermont? We know it will be a shock to live in an apartment and deal with things we haven't had to in years. But IF we are going to do that we at least need to live where we can hang in cool places in our day to day. And the unemployment rate where we were looking was up to 12%. Not good.

It's a bit much to keep thinking about. I'm not feeling encouraged and now wondering if we can't somehow luck into another place that has it all right there. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do. My experience in life is I look, I seek, I search and if nothing happens I know it isn't the right thing. Something else will present itself I hope.

I just want to feel good again and hopefully enjoy my last few days here. Life has slowed almost to a halt and it will be good to get back to my little world.

incognito

I'm really enjoying my time away from my life in Stowe. It is heaven to be in this house all alone and not have to talk or do or anything if I don't want to. Not that I had a structured life going on as it was, but there is always the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle when you are around others who know you.

I'd be lying if I said I was zooming around looking at art, meeting people, making contacts. I'd be lying if I thought I knew what I was wanting. I recently made a blip of a comment on my facebook page about how the romantic idea of renting an artist studio in an old mill building is starting to seem about as romantic as renting a studio apartment in an old Victorian home. I did that once...and it was one of the most hellish living experiences I've ever had living somewhere. So I'm shelving the whole art studio idea. At least in a big building with lots of other artists. From what I have gathered both in real life and online is, artist studios are usually aimed at jewelry people, painters, photographers and other 'quiet' types or art. To rent in a place where there are sculptors and wood workers...then my noise would pale in comparison and I would probably hate THEM. I guess if you are an artist who has no other place to work, this is a good way to try it. I'm thinking for me, there is no comparison to working at home. Which leads me back to my own situation and having no clue what is next for me.

Were my bank account bursting a bit with extra funds I would be more apt to spend energy looking for where to move. I'm not there. Chicken or the egg. What to do. Do nothing when you don't know or do anything. Things have a way of working out eventually. The more I try to force something or push the more I know it isn't for me. I get that the art studio thing isn't for me...for now at least. Doesn't mean I'm not keeping eyes and ears open. Just means I'm not going out of my way anymore to go look at places.

So I'm happily here another week. Enjoying my walks, riding a bike and feeling like a kid again going down different streets and finding how they all connect. No eating out, not running around exhausting resources for the sake of being busy. I love the slowness of a day, of enjoying nature and just being. I love not being down in the basement like I am at home. Just observing life and letting it all pass through. Perhaps later this week I will venture out more. I still want to see northampton/easthampton etc. I still want to drive around a bit more and explore, but it doesn't all have to be done this time, I hope to come here again in a few weeks when another burst of home owner visiting at the house I care take at happens again. So hi and by blog readers. I have to admit its nice not being online much either. Always good to take a break from routine.