self portrait in shades of grey

I am not one for labels. Not in parenting, not in politics, not in religion and not on my clothes.  I find personal success and inner peace when I don't follow someone else's template for how I should love, vote, pray or dress. I keep my eyes and my mind open for what the universe has to offer.  I expect that many attitudes and ideals aren't for me, but I try to stay open to what may.  It might not be a whole concept, but I search for the good and find a way that it might apply to my life and my situation.  How has it worked for others and how it can enrich my life?  If it doesn't work, what have I learned?

The black and white ideals of liberals and conservatives, fundamentalists and atheists, ferber and sears, fifth avenue and freeganism, exist in an essential symbiosis.  Each extreme cannot be without its opposite to counterbalance. It is night and day, joy and pain, yin and yang.  They are what outline the world.  My efforts are to find a balance.  Too much "yin" and it is too dark to find my way; too much "yang" and it is too bright to see clearly.

I cannot live my life in black nor white, it is much too flat. But I accept that the tranquil gray twilight in which I paint my life would not exist without them.

perspective

It's funny how you can go through life thinking that how you see things, perceive people, is how it really is.  Real life really bears no resemblance to a Michelangelo, rather, a Picasso.  

... artists attempt to revive the idea of art production as it was traditionally understood: mastery of a craft in order to make objects that gratify and ennoble those who see them...


The goal is to deconstruct these images because, despite their clarity, they lack the dynamical aspect that makes them "true to life." In order to paint a more accurate picture you must consider all perspectives and the subjects position in time and space.

When this theory is applied to real life, the points of view are infinite, the subject must be dissected both physically and emotionally.  Somewhere along the line this image you have of someone freezes, the painting is done, finished, lacquered. This inert image becomes the lense through which we view this person regardless of how they change. This image is projected, regardless of how inaccurate, onto this person and when they step out of the bounds of this skewed portrait it is upsetting.  "Why are they doing this? Who is this person I thought I knew?"  Something that may seem out of character, is really just coming from someplace beyond their image in your canvas.

Abstract art is often criticized as "ugly" or "too hard to understand" while the classical or realistic figure is tauted as "pure talent" and "beauty."  These complex, multifaceted deconstructions are actually closer to revealing the true beauty that is hidden, a diamond in the rough of the human condition.

...instead of depicting objects from one viewpoint, the artist depicts the subject from a multitude of viewpoints to represent the subject in a greater context...


(the cubist image used is "Woman with a Guitar" by Georges Braque, which I found more fitting than a Picasso, even though he is the artist I originally referenced. The sculpture is Michelangelo's "David" and the accompanying quotes are from Wikipedia)

::;.::;;.::.:::;;..::;:

the world was bright and glowing until
that grew into a scorching heat but then
squelched
not gone, merely oppressed by a blanket of humidity.
The clouds grew and the electricity flickered and
the thunder became all we could hear- not sure of its intent
but with a backbeat of steady drumming
the rain came down soothing the parched world below.
And then the sky was blue.

introspection

Practicing introspection has led me to arrive at a few conclusions lately.
Mindfulness: Take time to contemplate that and those which enrich your life, and be thankful.
Gratitude A little bit of gratitude can carry you further than you may realize.
Honesty: Before you can be truly honest with others, you must first be completely honest with yourself.
Faith: Have faith that the path you are traveling is the one you were intended for. It will undoubtedly get steeper and rougher than you though, so be faithful, but also be prepared.
Friendship: Friendship can occur when least expected, so create opportunity for these relationships to blossom. These people are put in your path for a reason.

A few things that have influenced my life recently: politics, world news, family.
These all seem to connect lately. I have been following the tumultuous landscape of global interaction and our federal government. The world is uncertain, but this is not new, rather, this is the norm. These uncertainties, if left unchecked, are fearsome and daunting. But I have concluded that change and stability comes from within. The world is topsy-turvy due mainly to the alarming number of individuals who seek not peace but self gratification from controlling those around them, and those who have failed to realize that they must first look into their inner-self and make peace there.
It is all too simple to overlook the small things that, once noticed, blossom, filling your mind and body and soul with simple beauty and joy and calm. Let them grow so that they leave no room for negative, stressful factors that smolder and stain and breed toxic discontent.
I look to my family and friends and to nature for this. The infinite depth of loving, blue eyes. The way the sunlight is captured and radiated through sweet innocence. The confidence instilled through a crisp autumn day. The serenity of gentle snores echoed by birds chirping in the afternoon or crickets in the still of the night. The fleeting moments that happen only once in a lifetime, watching children grow and play.
I have decided that these are the things I need most to nurture my inner peace and will do what I can to protect the world that makes this beauty thrive. To do this, I must gain the confidence to use this protective power. I must embrace things that I have been reluctant to in the past and have the courage to let go of the people and things that have become mere filler, for everything has a purpose, but if it's in a few days or a few decades, everything will have served its purpose and must move on.

contamination of a childhood

I grew up eating fruits and veggies that were grown outside my bedroom window. I ate meat from animals I had probably seen alive at some point, and probably on our own property. I now drive my SUV dutifully to the supermarket to pick out glossed over, processed, chemical and hormone contaminated foods to cook for my family.

I would love to know that what I feed my family was grown and tended with the same care as the food I was privileged with as a child. I would love to worry about worm-holes in apples or a daddy-longlegs in with my strawberries, or caterpillars in my broccoli. Instead I have to worry about the treatments given my produce to prevent that. I have to worry that the chicken I'm baking never once saw sunlight, or even ate a real worm yet somehow managed to grow to have a 1 lb. breast cutlett.

I grew up in a house lit by a rural electric company and could go up to two weeks without electricity or tap water (we had an electric well). I managed to read (we couldn't get TV reception anyway), draw, bathe and cook without incandescent lighting and how to make water from a nearby creek safe to drink and cook with by boiling it atop our wood burning stove. Now I come home to a front porch light that is glowing bright, walk into my living room and am greeted by the artificial faces smiling from a large TV, cook dinner on an electric glass top stove, and nag my husband about leaving lights on.

I would love for my family to be forced to slow down and give attention to the activities that we take for granted in our daily lives; to have nothing better to do than light candles and play cards or tell stories and sing. Now I have to worry about what habits my two year old might pick up from watching cartoons or my husband's video games.

I grew up climbing small mountains, skinny dipping, fishing, building fires, catching frogs, and being outside. I am still bothered by noise from loud cars and discovered my allergies didn't exist until I moved to a more urban area and had to adjust to smog and "red air quality alerts." I still prefer the gentle swoosh of cross-country skis to the metallic buzz of an ATV. Outdoor exploration for our family now is limited to a fenced back yard with neighbors frowning from their back balcony, or requires driving at least an hour fighting the traffic of trucks towing boats or campers.

I would love for my son to know fish outside of a tank, to know that slime really exists beyond Nickelodeon and that birds chirping, bugs clicking and water rushing are the sounds that make up "quiet." I would love to have to bathe my son every night because he was playing in dirt and mud and pond water all day. Hell, I'd love to get to play in mud and pond water every day. Now I have to worry about what chemicals have seeped into my dandilion-strewn yard from my neighbor's perfectly manicured kentucky blue-grass. I have to look out for cigarette butts and broken beer bottles in the dirt where we dig and play. I have to explain to my son the dangers of an unfamiliar face, even if they are just offering a "Hello" as we pass.

But now, more than anything, I wonder how polluted and contaminated the magic of childhood has become.

one of those days

Today is one of those days that makes me love being a mom. It is one of those days that erases the past week of grumpy teething, food flinging, tantrum throwing, and stress in general. The great thing about today is that it is nothing out of the ordinary. I got up, made breakfast for the family, got ready and went to work. I picked up a smiling child from the daycare where I work and was greeted with a huge hug. We went home where we proceeded to have a nice lunch that didn’t end up on the floor or in the dog’s mouth. Read a book, and he went down for a nap with no protest. While sitting at the kitchen table, I realized that this moment, though fleeting in the grand scheme, will always be in my heart even if it escapes my memory. These days too soon pass and will no doubt lead to many more, but right now, in the moment, I am as happy and as content as I could ever wish to be.

on being grown up

Point:
Being an adult is not all it's cracked up to be. Reckless abandon is replaced by responsibility, carelessness by stress and as each day passes the weight of the world transfers slowly atop unwanting shoulders. Needing is replaced by being needed and personal time becomes a virtual thing of the past, being anything but personal as it is not so quietly shredded by multi-tasking. The thought process that accompanies action and consequence is forced beyond "how much trouble will this get me in?" to "how is everything I do in my daily life going to affect the world and the way in which my children grow?"  The once coveted freedom of being an adult and having total control over choices made in life is crushed by the weight of the severity and complexity of the real choices that must be made. But it's not only the big things; even the smallest, seemingly simplest decisions can suddenly become cumbersome. The responsibility that comes with being an adult has a way of seeping in to every facet of life and filling even the most sacred personal rituals with leaden guilt. Sinking, grasping at the joy, release and freedom once brought by these things one can't shake the thought looming in the subconscious-- "what else should I be getting done right now?"

Counter Point:

Despite the heavy overtones of my last posting, please don't take is as pessimism or depression. It is simply fact. Thankfully that is not the only fact in life. Yes, I am looking around at a house that is less than kempt, dishes creep from sink to countertop, mail and paperwork avalanche over nearly every flat surface, and dust and sticky fingerprints peek from around clutter that seems to have exploded from every corner of the house. However, this morning I awoke next to a man that would give me the world. We layed side by side in a warm bed under a strong roof and listened to the sounds of our beautiful son, just awake chattering and bouncing in his crib, happy to have awakened to another day full of wonder and exploration. We arose to eat breakfast from a full refrigerator and indulge in a hot shower. Yes, Lakai was a grouch and threw a fit while waiting for his waffle to finish crisping in the toaster, yes more dishes were made and added to the mound in the sink, yes more sticky fingerprints emerged to be sought out and scrubbed and now the bathroom needs cleaned. But the stress of the day slips from mind as I hug my husband goodbye as he is leaving for work and as I type this and a content toddler sleeps in my lap. The weight of the world is still on my shoulders but as I look into loving eyes, feel a warm embrace, hear "I love you" the weight does not hang from my shoulders, but perches.