Today has been a really bad day. I don't think I can really explain it other than to say it felt as thought I'd fallen into a well filled with thick black ink. I've spent most of my time since waking this morning pretty much on my side or back with my eyes shut. Thoughts that would make most people cry coursing through my head with such strength that my muscles clenched in reaction and tears welled up in my eyes.
It's my fault. I pushed myself further than I should have and didn't give myself a change to recharge. Days like this have happened before, thankfully not that often anymore. End of the month is rough as it is, usually struggling to find enough money to cover rent, not to mention all the other bills that always seem to come out of nowhere. But, lately I've been going harder than I've ever gone before. My heart has finally caught fire again for something and I've forgotten to take precautions against overexerting myself and not leaving enough energy in the tank to fight my beast. I did try to recharge a bit, naps and all, but the driving force in my mind that says I need to get stuff done was just too loud and I didn't feel like listening.
So, my day disappeared into a dark haze from which it felt like there was no escape. Hours passed as I lay upon my couch, forcing my logical brain to pinion my emotional one down as I slid from sleep to drowsy wakefulness and back again. My emotional brain screamed to be listened to, to be reckoned with, to be faced, but, I refused to meet head-on. Why? Because it's pointless and the emotional brain will always win. Instead I came at it from a tangent.
EB - Emotional Brain --- LB - Logical Brain
EB: 'Get up! You have so much to do! You can't rest! Things must be done!
LB: No. You are exhausted. Close your eyes. Relax your muscles.
EB: You are alone. No one loves you.
LB: I am not alone. People do love me. I just need to reach out.
EB: Your work sucks. You should give up. You aren't creative. Everything you do will be forgotten.
LB: I've been painting for, like, 3 days. People are interested in helping you to grow, evolve. NO ONE has said your work sucks. People have sent you tools to help you. They have bought your prints. And, seriously, you have't been at this for very long.
EB: You will never be happy. This state will always be how you exist.
LB: Hmmm...you win this round.
And round and round it went. The space in between arguments filled with my mind trying to envision new things to paint and potential directions to go with my art... Until finally I had the energy to get up. Because I know how important it is to be around people during times like this, even when I look and feel like death. With anyone I get decently close to, I'm pretty open about when I'm low like this, so they know it's not them, and that they can support if they feel like it. It is hard sometimes, though, to be open, especially when it's as dark as it was today. So, I put on some pants and walked over to the shop with my backpack.
First thing from all of my friends as I walked into the shop...smiles and a 'wassup!' Also a few incredulous looks and jokes about my new look. Before I got stuck on my sofa I decided to take some weight off of my head...to allow for some natural cooling, and so I shaved my had and beard. Apparently I now look like Walter White from Breaking Bad.
I can't tell you how hard those first series of interactions was, so disparate were the energy levels. They seemed so intense to me, to be almost staring, but one of my buddies reacted by saying, 'we're just glad to see you.' If you follow any of my writing you know I pretty much live at this coffee shop, so for most people that would seem like a normal thing, but, my mind is anything but normal after the things I've been through. When people say stuff like that to me, it's a genuine surprise. And, today, a very needed one. But, that's not even the little thing I wanted to talk about.
The force of will it took to join in and be part of the conversation that was going on, I can't even describe it. But, I hung on for dear life, knowing it was what I needed. Part way through, a buddy of mine, an older life-long artist walks up. Now, this guy is the quintessential LA artist...and I mean in a good way. Long white hair, beard, always wandering in and out between paintings. Total old school stoner. Knowledge and experience coming out of his ears, and if I'm lucky, out of his mouth in the form of stories or recommendations for artists to check out for inspiration.
Since I got started drawing he's always been checking in over my shoulder. Always giving encouragement and trying to help with advice. And, since I got into painting and my passion has really been aroused, even more interested. Along with another artist friend we've been discussing mediums, modes, directions, inspirations, you name it. The fire, no, the desire to create, still has the power to burn through the dark haze around me, even if just for a while. And that was the kind of conversation me and another friend were having when he walked up.
'So, did you get that ink we talked about the other day?' I've been loving the black acrylic I bought several days back for it's stroke strength and depth of color, but ink has been tempting me because of a deep interest in Japanese brush paintings. But, being broke, I hadn't been to the art store nor thought about getting into yet another medium. So, I answered with a chuckle, 'not yet.'
He grinned mischievously, then shyly held out a small box. 'Think you could use this then.' A box with the ink we'd been talking about for a week.
Now, let me talk about a force of will not to start crying. My entire brain has been beating me down like a dirty MMA fight, doubt like chains on every limb, and here's someone I respect encouraging me, validating what I do, and providing the tools to move on and try what I want. It's not the confidence I have in myself that is going to make me a great artist, or help get me through my depression, it's the confidence that others have in me that I see in their eyes and actions that will make it happen. At some point, hopefully my own will kick in, but, until then...
And, this isn't the first time something like this has happened. It keeps happening, and happening.
Another friend sending me some colored markers...
A different friend 'loaned' me a whole set of colored oil pencils...and yet another friend has said a package is in the mail with who-knows-what? Other friends keep on buying my prints, always at some weird strategic interval that happens just after I take another chance and commit a little further to this path.
Such little things, really. None of them cost much or took any real effort, but, the power they've had, I don't think my friends really realize. That little box of ink that my friend handed to me with that mischievous smile...it's moments like those that I cling to to get me through this shit storm that my life has become.
So, here comes the sum-up. If you've gotten to this point I hope you've found some lessons for yourself in the story.
First...take care of yourself. For goodness sakes...you are not a machine, but your body is. You need to make sure it's in tip-top shape. Keep gas in the tank, wash it every once in a while, be kind to it... Because when you treat it like crap, that's how it's gonna treat you. And I'm not getting in Cartesian Dualism about body and soul...
Second, it's the little things that make the biggest differences in people's lives. You might not think much of it, but others may and usually do. Small gifts, random encouraging text messages, a smile and a hug, hell, even a 'thank you' sometimes. There are more people than you can imagine going through rough times, and few are willing to admit it because we live in a society that says you have to do it yourself. So, be cool, be nice, do little things for other people because that kindness will be valued by the people who need it.
Hope y'all have a great day! Stay strong, stay positive :)
Wessel
