My last post was followed by a 45 minute session of punching a bag and I was so exhausted afterwards I was drained of anger. Whatever works!

Last night, it was sadness and for once I knew why. Unfortunately, life has a twisted way of giving me only a small taste of what I want and I’m dealing with the side affects.

This morning, it’s sensory overload big time, hightened by all the people asking me to do this, do that, placing stuff on my desk with the sudden lack of memory as to where my damn in box is. Gah. Too much. Too much to do and I can’t focus long enough to tackle one, then the other and so on.

I am encouraged, knowing soon, maybe even next month, I’ll have a pdoc, someone to see regularly. With such positive posibilities, I continue on, reminding myself it’s “one more day”, each day.

Ash and I have been battling along the power lines yet at the same time she has been such a strong force in my life I feel I would collapse without her. Saddens me to think it’s supposed to be the other way around. Last night she was the one encouraging me in the gym parking lot saying “don’t worry Mom, you’ll feel better after you work out” and then afterward “let’s just go get a treat, it’ll make you smile.” The other night I painted her nails, including little flowers with rhinestones and she sat still, patient, though giggly, and she thanked me for being the best mom ever. Sure, most kids say that to their parents, but I will never tire of those words, even when she tags on the “sweet butt”. Especially when I generally feel the opposite.

In addition to Ash, (or “butt crack” as she prefers to be called) I have been attempting to direct my jumbled mess of emotions to my artwork. I think I’ve been successful, as I finally slept well last night, a completed portrait resting on my end table. I’ll upload an image later, but not until my subject sees the final piece.

Writing has helped…I don’t feel like my head is spinning anymore, but there is still a large portion of the day remaining. Until then I’ll stay in my space, screaming “leave me alone!” in my head.

Not a good day…not at all. If I could shake this anger and calm the inside of my head down things would be spiffy. After such a good day yesterday and previously uneventfully week, it sure would’ve been nice to have a teeny tiny warning before this mental MACK truck slammed me this morning.

Earlier this evening while I was helping Ash with her homework she became extremely frustrated and actually quite aggitated with me after attempting to put a number book together.  Reminding me all too much of myself, she flung the small square papers in the air and exclaimed “I’m trying!  Homework is haaard for me, mom. It’s easier for adults because you’re already smart!  I have to WORK at it!”

I didn’t have the heart to tell her I’m still working on it.

I am worn, wiped out, but in such a good way I would act out this day all over again. From 7:30 AM until a half hour ago I have been in the most amazing presence of my daughter, Ashleigh. So alert, alive, in complete oblivion of the insane world around her, Ash and I swirled from breakfast to swimming, to the park, playing in sand, minor grocery shopping, messy brownie baking, dinner, bathing, and finally brushing each other’s hair, before I tucked her in and she was asleep. Somewhere in there I unpacked her clothes and toys, managed a minor sunbburn and visited with Sarah & Steven. I am all talked out, but have fallen back into “mom” mode it is hard to believe she was away for three months. Three months later and she still requested me to wrap her in a towel and sing “I got you babe” after her bath and we rolled around on the bed giggling.

As I rested on a pillow nest to her, the soft snoring escaping her nostrils, I smiled. I would’ve watched her sleeping for hours if I didn’t have work to do and sleep was only an option. Tangling finances, the impending semester of classes, the bustle of last minute preparing at work, are all muffled. I wil arise earlier tomorrow, but the new schedule will be even more rewarding. My baby is back!

more pictures from today >>

One thing I will never deny is that I have artistic ability. I may be extremely critical of what I create, but I at least know and will not hide my ability (samples of my favorites can be found in my gallery). That being said, I go in spurts. My favorite painting took me a year at least to finally complete, and some portraits I spread out over months. I am detailed and am not satisfied until it is “just so”.

Abstract is something I will never be able to grasp, in my way of life nor in my drawing/painting abilities. I look in awe at some amazing abstract pieces and wonder how someone could make such movements and the work is still beautiful. The only type of art I can create is exactness to the T, portraits, paintings of people, their bodies and faces. I also prefer to work from a photo I’ve taken of the subject, or one I’ve found fascinating.

All this, just to say I am finally working on a portrait that is from memory. No photo, no live person in front of me. Just momories, moments. I am fascinated with the outcome, and though nowhere complete in my eyes, I am very satisfied with what I have created thus far. This is amazing! I have crossed over into an area of my skills I never thought existed and I am excited.

As with my duaghter’s portrait I’ve recently started, I am also taking pictures after every drawing session to document my progress. Surprisingly, I have never done this before and already I am fascinated with the steps I go through, the layers of changes I make each session. Years and a number of portraits later and I am still learning and refining my techniques; the progress shots have only helped!

I suppose you’d like to view my recent two projects but I will wait to show them until they’re completed, though I’m not sure how much longer I can contain myself!

Happy, sad, frustrated, horny, giddy, silly, no matter, I’m so very tired. Mentally, physically, I need rest, so I’m taking a nap in hopes of being refreshed. If only I could wake up not feeling so damn worn.

Perhaps if I fail to discuss today at work the hours of frustration, bitterness, self-loathing and pity will dissipate. Instead, I remember how powerful my trip to the gym was, draining yet similarly renewing. I find it odd that I can experience such a tandem of emotions, that I can feel so lost, and still feel so very much alive.

Pushing harder, through tougher resistance than ever before, for a longer period of time, I closed my eyes…breathing, sweating, telling myself “it’s just two more minutes”…every two minutes. Heel down, face forward, I lasted 60 minutes, finishing in a sprint that meant another challenge had been completed, surpassed.

My shower time is usually invigorating, but walking into the stall I felt drained. Standing under the shower head I waited for the water to warm against my back, ignoring the initial chill. Instead of a set of pushups against the wall, I rested my forehead on the tile for a moment, feeling tension release. As i turned around sadness became overwhelming and all I could do was cry, the now scalding hot water mingling tears on my skin.

Slowly fulfilling the motions of cleaning, I paused to let out more muffled cries. Lifting and maneuvering my hair, I wanted to scream, wondering what the hell was happening, why I had so little control. I methodically shaved my legs, clinching my jaw so as not to cry yet again. Finished with the necessities, I continued to stand beneath the streams, calming and soothing. Detaching the shower head, I ran water against skin, back, shoulders, legs, chest; I felt numb.

I eventually improved after turning off the faucet, watching water trickle, hearing it drop on the rubber mat as I reached for my towel. Gathering my items, I returned to the locker area and stood in front of the mirror while wrapped in terry, my soaked hair dripping down my neck and my shoulders. Unable to resist, I catch my reflection, pale in the poor lighting, though radiant in the cool air. Tired, exhausted from an unexpected torment of emotions, I smiled as if receiving a compliment. Half-ass became a wide grin as my towel slipped and I scrambled to cover myself again.

The process of getting dressed wasn’t quite so laborious and as I placed moisturizer along my cheeks, forehead, chin…my trademark crinkle appeared as I dabbed my nose. Silliness always wins and today I was grateful for the seemingly dormant happiness which always thrives.