Lost Days

I keep losing whole days to minutia. Today? Chiropractor, shopping for college crap, photographing a gallery space so I can write a better proposal. I finished a book (that’s not lost time. I’m OK with that.). I wanted to be further along with life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. So be it.

I spent some time cutting out pieces yesterday…

Jul 1 15 001 small

I hate my scissors. I don’t like how they cut. I feel like this is not the pair I usually use. I worry that I’m developing arthritis, because I have these weird pains in one finger that were never there before. I cried last night and this morning. I don’t know why. I mean notionally there’s the hormone thing, which is obviously messing with my tiny little brain, and then girlchild had texted me last night about her roommates for college, and I was feeling the empty space around me, even with a dog and a couple of cats, and it was too empty and quiet and because it’s summer, I don’t talk to as many adults. I go into this hermit phase, which is fine when the kids are around, because they check in with me and I with them and there’s at least people around if you fall down and can’t get up or your blood sugar goes wild, but in two months, there will be no one. No one at all.

Yeah. Shut up brain. You suck.

I’ve cut out everything but the flesh colors. Of course, the flesh is a huge part of it (and I did start on those last night, because sleep seemed very far away)…

Jul 1 15 002 small

I wanted to get the rest done today, but the day disappeared, lost in errands and time wandering and muggy humid thunderstorms that are wandering across the county.

When I was driving from the chiropractor to the art space, I was on this freeway and a good song came on and I accelerated with the music, and the road was rushing by, and the tears were doing the stupid shit they do, and I thought “road trip.” Girlchild had asked me about her and a friend doing one, and I pushed her off, because I don’t trust the car or honestly two barely-18-year-olds, but we can have that discussion with her dad present as well, but fuck me…I’m 48 and I haven’t had a real vacation in a freakin’ long time, unless you count a weekend in San Francisco or Houston, and I had this incredibly huge urge to just keep driving. To not go home. To run away. I had $11 on me. One sketchbook. No food. Yeah. I didn’t say it was a good idea, but it was a big one. A very alluring one. I should keep that in the back of my mind. Run away. You can. Sort of. You do have to get someone in to feed the animals.

Sigh. I saw this while looking at the art space…

Jul 1 15 010 small

Love street art, paintings on buildings that wrap around doors and windows. Some day. Some day I will do that.

I’m still setting goals. I’m just kind of slow getting some of them done. It is summer. I should excuse some of that slowness. It’s not so bad. I don’t lose whole days; just parts of them. Most of the daylight parts. Maybe I’m just not meant to make art during the day. My night owl brain can’t process it any earlier than it does.

Who knows.

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2 Responses to Lost Days

  1. Rebecca says:

    Pretty cool red spiderweb window guards, too.

    I have trouble matching my circadian rhythm to the rest of the world, too. It sucks how limiting it is. (I try to avoid being out & about between mid-afternoon and early evening. Doesn’t leave a whole lot of time to interact with the world or take care of business!)

    Like

  2. Sion Thomas says:

    run away and come visit me!

    Like

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