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.