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.