After a very late dinner of left over Chilli, (delicious) I sat trying to work out, what my next painting/drawing would involve, exactly, if it’s a picture I’ve found that intrigues, I like to study it for a while, find the pitfalls so to speak, (my weaknesses), Everything is still so new in one way, yet again after eight months, it surely should be second nature right?, Not!!!, I have to nag myself constantly….do you want this or not Treez?, Answers invariably a resounding yes and with bells attached…I’ve hungered to be an artist for a lifetime, Since I sat in front of a tiny made up easel with my Dad Saturday afternoons, my five year old self scrawling out harsh pencil scribbles upon a scrap of paper, holding it up after in my dad’s face to inspect😁, he always encouraged. Whilst my father a competent painter, flowed blended oil paint across the canvas, ….I inherited much from my dear father, but his artistic bent, sadly avoiding me altogether, it’s only recently after starting out on my own journey, Ive learnt, it’s a sad fact that only 10% of artists are born, the rest of us have to earn it the hard way….with the care bear stare….😁😁😁, no not really 😁, with practice..practice practice practice…and after eight long months, one pallet of water colour paints, three sketch books, endless ripped out pages and much French!!!!!, Fluent now., I’m still only on the novice level, my endless patience, a thing of the past, thrown in the bin with my last piece of work.
But as usual I digress muchly, my mind tends to wander somewhat, quite nomad fashion, going walk about…But as I studied my latest victim..I mean picture, I kept hearing this low rumbling sound, now I know it wasn’t my stomach, although chilli can have that effect on the best of us😁,…No this sounded muted, or distant, .At first I took it as the Guy who lives above me(no not “the big man”😁),, but my neighbour moving stuff about his flat, so i gave it no more thought, that was until it became more persistent, …Curiosity finally out weighing my resolve to study,(as so much does😁, Reluctantly I got up and looked out of my living room window, ……Oh boy was I in for a surprise, the dams had finally broken….three months of drought, over in a quick flash, ok several flashes, spectacular big blue light up the sky type, much loud crashes, and enough water falling from the sky that I couldn’t see across the road, to top this off as I stood in my doorway trying to film the proceedings for Jesse, I had a free shower of my own thrown in, literally thrown in though😁, My tiny street now coming with its own fast flowing river, I’m not sure I remember that bit on the tenancy agreement, or come to think of it, the brand new water feature cascading down from a long ago broken guttering…My poor plants that had valiantly survived the long hot summer, now having to take their chances amid the driving rain… sighs
But despite everything you won’t hear me complaining, We need this rain so desperately, the grass here had long since been scorched, anything that had managed to hang on in there now crispy wisps of yellowing hay, . Trees were suffering dreadfully, it depressed me no end to watch their leaves curl up in on themselves,only to wither and drop onto the ground, born away by a sultry hot breezy days and relentless dry nights, eventually in some last ditch effort at survival, dropping their larger limbs in order for the main trunk to concentrate all its remaining resources on subsistence.
I felt the droughts lasting effect keenly on my own little border of wild meadow flowers,. I had been so proud of its lusty growth just a few weeks before, its now laying flat, brown, crisp and burnt, Red clover, yellow Trefoil, yellow Rattle, the usually hardy Blue chicory, Poppies, Scabious, foxglove, and many more, both leaves and flowers baked brown, brittle and dead, it’s been all I could do, to keep going the few pots of plants right outside the front of my flat, they had become more essential now than ever, especially for the visiting butterflies, bees, wasp and hoverflies, although i had watched those visits gradually dropping off over the last few weeks. Before my wee garden had been awash with the common Cabbage white, Common Blue, Brimstone, Tortoise shell, red Admiral, Peacock butterflies to name but a few,. The deep scarlet poppies which I admired so much, had until last week been covered in the bustling attentions of hover flies, now nothing, just silence.!!!!!!
When the weather did finally cool, I felt myself exhale, taking that long drawn out breath, I hadn’t even been aware until now of holding in even, it felt when the temperatures soared, we all paused come noon, no birds sang, no bees hummed, children and dogs fell earily silent, only the sound of the brave little grass hoppers song persisted in throughout the heat. Apart from watering the garden, taking care of the local birds I hid away from the glare, pulling my curtains after lunch, pretending to read a book, the heat finally making me give way to a restless sleep, this pattern pretty soon became my daily routine, up at 4am cold shower, anything that needed doing , done before the sun woke, afternoon siesta, it worked.😁
It took its toll on me most mentally, hiding away in the dark for hours at a time, not able to walk in the local fields, sent my depression spiralling, between this and the ever increasing fear that I had tried to bury deeply away of the painful lump in my breast, distracting myself with activities, now I had hours alone with just my thoughts, those bloody awful What ifs,, You cannot prepare yourself for the mental toll it takes, there is and was no escape..Facing up to this is harder when you spend hours in your own company, dominating last thing at night or in those very early mornings, didn’t help I was living partially in darkness during the day, I couldn’t work out, if it was the darkness of the rooms or the screaming blacks(depression) getting an ever increasing strangle hold over me,. Maybe both
What I did know was, what I had used, just weeks previous was now no longer working,(I broke it) I had art projects half finished, dark thoughts pushed in and eclipsed any and all creativity, asking invasive questions of me, Like what’s the point of this again?, Why are you trying to create pictures that you won’t get to enjoy?, It would be just your luck Treez that you would get to a stage with art you loved only to get yanked off this mortal coil, how rude!, this and nagging little demon thoughts invaded relentlessly, I could no longer out run it or hide …..goodness knows I tried, thinking up endless useless chores until either pain or exhaustion took over, even sleep bought little escape,….
Death itself holds no fear over my head, I’m not scared of you Mr Reaper, respect yes, fear never…but the thought of not seeing My children again, not seeing Jesse fills me with more pain the both EDS, Cancer or any of my illnesses combined, it wrecks my very soul, there were days I couldn’t breathe with the pain of it, I had to work to take that very next breathe, ….yes death would bring release from the endless physical pain I was born into, but nothing compares to the pain of missing those you love, or that walk amidst nature, sharing the earth with all I hold dear…this I don’t mind confessing scares the hell outta me…
It’s still ever present daily, tapping me on the shoulder with its arsenal of grief bullets, getting me out of no where like a demented sniper…if I ever manage to distract it, which for the most part, I can and do😁, it hits back harder, it’s a sodding dirty fighter…What about never holding Jess again then huh?, holding his hand, sharing those silly jokes, getting up in the middle of the night to drive for the hell of it…yup it knows how to hit back, then there’s never seeing my daughter again, jeez it’s a cruel tortuous wee beastie…
Without art though, Jess, my family, I know full well i would be sunk, they are my constancy, …One of the pictures Ive paint many times over is of a lighthouse, I wondered why in the beginning,because it was unconsciously done, now it makes perfect sense, My loved ones, nature is/are my guiding lights, when the world threatens to drown me, the darkness suffocate, there they are, beacons shining so brightly, no matter where my mind makes me wander, they bring me home again. The age old candle in the window Warmth in the chill.
Yesterday thanks muchly to the storms efforts, the air was cooler, clearer, and I infact took my first tentative steps outside in over a month, it felt so very good, yes I hurt physically, but it was so bloody worth it, I feel for those who do not share my love affair with all things outdoors, standing under trees even briefly, filled me with a sense of much needed peace, I cannot begin to explain this, won’t try, but it’s always been so, Since I escaped my mother’s clutches at the tender age of five years old and went feral for some hours, until now, today the intensity of the screaming blacks are down to the mewling greys, I’ve got this!,. In a while I hope to escape into another project, my mind hopefully focussing on creation, sat in front of an open window, light throwing pretty shadows across the page, getting by, minute after minute, hour after hour, until another day is won, and I leave lifes arena still battle scarred and bloodied, but alive none the less. The love from those I hold close my sword, if you made it thus far I thank you for your company, and as I bid you a fond farewell, wishes for a peaceful weekend, please look after you, take care folks x, 💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💚💚💚💚💛💛💚💚💛💛💚💚💚
My American Man In Purple Lace Corsets 