Tuesday 13th
Day 5 Of the inner Germ warfare,, Yes I have bloody cold (sighs), don’t leave my home from one week to the next, but here it is, in all its full snotty glory,. Seems colds arrive with your shop these days, Milk, eggs and butter ohhhh and we,re doing a lovely line of free colds, kind of a Bogof😁 . In fairness to my sweet delivery guy, he did say in between sneezes, he was full of a cold, but what’s one supposed to say….ewwwww Grosse, erm could you stand, approximately three feet back maybe?, whilst I de mist you over with a mild pungent disinfectant solution, and Don a full hazmat suit, not so sure it’s very me anyhow 😊, I do wonder though, if they come in sparkly purple?….Will explore the Zon(Amazon) later perhaps.. But with little in the way of an immune system, my body likes to grab everything going, its like letting me loose in a cake shop at happy hour really….hmmmm free cake!, It’s not my fault “the colds” infected my brain cell, honest…😁.
Anyhow it’s month ten of a year long expedition, Nooooo I’ve not gone completely off my rocker, lost my marbles, brain ran off finally screaming, arms akimbo let me out!!!!!, I can’t hold it captain she’s gonna blow, …No seriously now, back in January, my new years revolution, (yes I mean revolution, was to go on a kind of journey, one even I could achieve, with this messed up manky body a long for the ride, a road trip,one of 12 months with art, something your average armchair Agoraphbic could achieve all by herself, well sort of, there was still coffee, much much coffee, oh and language, I’m skilled at curse words now dontcha , if nothing else comes of this, there’s that.
It’s a long story, but I will keep it short😊, is that one of those doodahs, Oxi thingies, Shakes head, oww don’t do that Treez, . if your still here I will explain myself😊, Throughout my childhood I’ve always scribbled, dabbled in the drawing, it’s actually a kind of stop cock, release valve, for my stress levels,, when I become overwhelmed by life, Shove a pencil in my hot sticky little hand and away I go, Horses being main my thing, I can draw those in my sleep, it’s unconscious thing, something I just do I guess, but anything else is somewhat questionable….no it is really!, Everyone will say what’s it supposed to be? 😁, I can say its anything!, because my sprawling pencil drivel could be either a Tyrannosaurus Rex or a Chihuahua, my drawing was and still is shocking..
My father, Aunts, all were amazing artists, and then of course there was me😁, it seemed cruel almost,. They turned out beautiful landscapes, potraits, I turned out naked Picassos with eyes at the back of their heads, they mixed beautiful colours on wood pallets, I mixed, well sludge green basically…..try as I may, it didn’t happen….Every few years I would try again, giving in to an overwhelming need to recreate, bring forms to life upon paper…but each time it sadly eluded me, I gave away the pencils, paper and paint, unable to look at them anymore, they mocked me cruelly, in the meantime when I walked, Autumnal skys, golden trees, scarlet berries fired my imagination, I could see how the composition would arrive on the paper, the colour tones and blends, it taunted me, teased, yet it wasn’t to be…..
So what changed?, Well if I’m honest with myself, it became that its now or never situation really…I was told so so many times if you want something bad enough, you will get it, You keep going until you achieve the almost impossible,. confession here, I didn’t believe a damn word of it, (but I wanted too…I wanted to believe it was there, inside me all along, just waiting for me to locate it, an instinctual artist, I just needed to find the key to unlock her….i,’ll let you into a couple of secrets….there really is no key!, There never was an inner artist…there just never was…See no one and I mean no one tells you this, that there are two types of Artists….One is your natural, born that way….the rest of us?, Well we take our chances, thrown to the paper gods to crash and burn, sacrificial black ashes,. We have to work our dear little butts into the ground, every single picture, a blend of linseed and heartache..I can’t tell you how many pictures I’ve started, each going to be that turnaround Ive longed for…each in the end destined for the bloody bin…week after week, I would sit at a tiny glass topped round garden table, (all there’s room for), Hour after hour, my back aching, knees swollen from being bent, fingers hurting from holding a pencil….nothing….the paper doesnt shout brilliance…. Just silence!, endless screaming silence….
Then one morning in late February, while doom scrolling endless beautiful perfect painted water colour pictures, torturing my very soul, i came across an American artist…who changed everything in one 5 minute video, It wasnt the tutorial as such, but the words she left with….Be free to mess it up, no one but yourself is ever going to see it, So enjoy it!, Whoa wait a blooming moment here, are you telling me it’s ok, to do my muddy grass, carrot people, and lopsided boxy houses with Windows in each corner!?😮,. It took a while to leave behind my need for perfection, but it’s happening, I’m leaving with it the need to produce a Stubbs, Constable or even Bob Ross….I paint like Treez, the Treez whose one wonky eye, sees things, well just slightly different…who is no longer afraid to put mark’s on that white sheet paper, draw a demented Dachshund, wonky vase of Pansies or stick person …each glorious mess is a learning experience, each step I take I know leaves me with thousands more, my expedition has just begun…and yes I lose my way at times…but isn’t that the fun of the journey…finding out about yourself.
When I woke up this morning, my nose bunged, my throat raw, stomach churning and head spinning, I didn’t want to move, I could have laid miserably in my bed of self pity all day, and who would have blamed me?, But I didnt, I got up, I stood in the bath trembling with cold, poured endless bowls of steaming soapy water over my aching body….washed, made my first coffee, pulled back the curtains, sat upon my bed, hands around my cup, looking out at the Sky…..only I didn’t just look at it….I only bloody saw it, eyes opened to the world anew, it was a recipe of perfection..Colbalt, azure, Palest peach, Apricot, yellows, violets and streaked with gold cloud, yes they were Gold!!!!!!!, I didn’t rush to grab my phone to capture it, I didn’t need to, it’s in here(taps head) and in here, (hand over heart), will I try to paint it, you bet your bloody life I will, will I mess it up, oh my gosh yes gloriously, exhilaratingly, I’m going to be the best at being a mess….what’s more you know, I love it….
Every day, every single day I sit at that little table, watching the birds feed, clouds race, skies change and I paint my little heart out…most are useless, terrible even, but every once in a while, something miraculous happens, I paint something that can be a fair representative of my subject, but it’s no longer about that now, no it’s about the journey, not the destination, it’s not about being the best, but the best I can be….While I sat this morning in a world of pain, I realised something…I wouldn’t exchange anything, not my messed up EDS sick body, the one wonky eye…because I had coffee in my hands, love for my people in my heart and perfection under the apricot sky……
Something else came out of all this shenanigans, I show my attempts on “the Facebook”, yes good or bad, their there for all to see, now why set yourself up for heartache you ask?, Well because if one of my attempts inspires someone else to do something they only dreamt of and thought the impossible, then I’m ok with that…in fact I’m better than ok, I bloody love it…..so don’t put off doing your own thing…do it, start your own expeditions, don’t put it off, become an explorer of your own lives, great thing is you won’t need a compass….go on be brave, who knows where it will lead you….whatever you get up to though my lovelies take care of yourself, look after you💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛x
