Beyond the Concrete

I’m a little stressed at the moment. Too much work, too many deadlines, too many things on the to-do list, money issues. I wish last night I’d had time to make art…that’s two nights in a row. And I didn’t post yesterday because I was working in the morning, trying desperately to get something done because with about another 7 or 8 hours, I can get paid a chunk of money. And maybe that chunk will make me feel less like hyperventilating when the next bill comes in. Or not.

I did get both the art entries in that I wanted to. Also got rejected from another one, but whatever. That shit happens. Wasn’t really expecting to get in I guess. Now I have a chunk of time (I think) before the next entries are due. And some decisions to make.

I do have photos of the newest piece back from the photographer though, hallelujah. And in the middle of the night, a name that made sense finally came to me. Here is Beyond the Concrete

Nida027 copy (2)

She’s essentially 60″ square (an inch or two smaller than that in each direction). There’s a pissed-off Mother Nature going after some version of civilization. This is the image my photographer put on my CD…I love this.

Nida020 copy

Another blue hair…I love the connotations behind that…

Nida023 copy

And those crazy-ass electrical transmission towers. What the fuck was I thinking?

Nida019 copy

I’m pleased with it. Probably means it won’t get in anywhere. But at the moment, anything that doesn’t have a show to take it away will probably be in my two-person show at Grossmont College in January/February. So there’s a pro to rejection, right?

Otherwise, my brain is still doing that slow roll, trying to get its feet underneath it on solid ground. I found the cats…the pile of drawings and Wonder Under ready to iron. I know some of my stress is because I’m not doing something at night that’s relaxing…I’m basically working until midnight every night, and that’s not healthy. I keep telling myself “If you just get through THIS week, everything will get easier.” I’m not sure when that stops. I should be glad of the extra work, because it brings extra money, and then maybe, just maybe, I can slip through the college payments this year. Next year? Next year I’m completely fucked. I have nothing saved. I will do my best to save some, but even making the boychild’s payments this year is a stretch. Adding the girlchild’s payments, which are much higher, to that? I don’t know what I’m going to do. Panic and run around!

Anyway. No point in worrying about that today. Today is the last day of my zombie unit…the apocalypse started yesterday and I think the kids are enjoying it. Interesting to see who is trying to cheat. And how. Then we start a new unit tomorrow, mostly with stuff I know how to do. Ironically, this will probably be the last year I teach DNA and cells, as the new standards slot it into 6th grade. Oh well. So be it. Change is inevitable. I really do feel like I can’t depend on much of anything at the moment. Maybe I should draw that.

I did go through the last two sketchbooks a bit and grabbed two drawings that might work. But I’m not sure. It’s OK. I have some time to decide, because I’m finishing the little ones first. Sometime around the end of October, I’ll have to switch gears. By then, there will be fewer 95-degree days, the blue skies of fall will be apparent, and I might need a sweater at work. My favorite season, honestly. Going into but not yet the holidays, with all the stress that brings. School is kinda settled down, but not hell yet. I might have a handle on the house and the dog, who is still trying to escape through metal on metal. Dumb beast. I’d take her to work if I could. The kids would love it…except the allergic ones.

OK. I know today will be stressful because the kids are handing in a big assignment and they will not be prepared. And I will find that irritating and frustrating, because I’ve gone over it so many times. So maybe I should meditate at lunch. Possibly.

Come home. Grade some stuff. Edit some stuff. Make some art. Cry a little if it makes sense. Or even if it doesn’t, because that’s how the hormones roll.

One Response to Beyond the Concrete

  1. Victoria says:

    I love the bird squawking, “Ow!”


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