I completed my first painting since my mum's death yesterday and now feel back in my painterly stride, intending to go into town later and spend some gift tokens on some more acrylics.
I chose to paint a coastal scene, as a 'gift' for my mum and as a way of laying her to rest on her birthday today. It is a very tranquil and simple painting which reminds me of the meditation read as her commendation in the funeral service - Imagine. It took just under four hours which surprised me.
I am so relieved to be back with a brush in my hand. I feel very much at home and it takes me away from words and into the moment. Paintings are as much technical operations as they are a combination of design and luck. I hadn't realised how often I had painted this picture in my imagination - but I clearly had because it literally fell off my brush.
I've had a similar experience when I'm writing. Sometimes an idea for a novel, poem or article can be in gestation for several months and then I can sit down, then first and second draft it very swiftly. Final drafts and tightening the finished product have to be done at a distance... Popped in a drawer and then examined cold and with an 'acid' eye to excess, indulgence and deviation. (Thank goodness for blogging).
I've decided to go ahead with the publication of The Sharing Space which is a book about disability and the socio-psychological and theological attitudes towards it. This will hopefully see the light of day later in the year. I need to chase the God of Edges book I contributed to as I have heard nothing about that this year.
I am able to think about academic writing at the moment, but my pressing concern is to finish a novel and that is eluding me still. Again, I may need to just - start - rather like the painting - but for now it is the painting I want to work with.
I am well on the mend. Coming up to surface can be as quick as going down and wallowing in the depths. I've cracked the worst of the symproms and am now easing back into LIFE. There's still a degree of trial and error in what I can and cannot do - but at least I am able to explore and decide what works for me and what doesn't - rather than reeling from one bout of catastrophising to the next.
I have booked myself on a conference in July which I can't wait to go on - and that feels brilliant too. It will be ten days away and a chance to really discern my new intellectual and creative 'weight' in collaboration with others. It's awfully entertaining when you take yourself absolutely seriously...
My brother joined us after his working day yesterday for supper and further stimulating conversation and reminiscing. It remains an immensely diverse and enjoyable evolving friendship. He also has a reputation for 'having ideas' apparently, so I'm not the only one! I am delighted that we seem to have so much in common whilst there are enough differences to reassure me that we won't be tempted to collude with each other!
I am so looking forward to him coming again, apart from anything else it looks as though we will be setting up a cottage industry archiving the Wallman family history and writing my father's biography!
McMillen, K., When I loved myself enough, 2008 PanMacMillan: USA:
When I loved myself enough I began feeling such a relief.
When I loved myself enough I came to see I am not special but I am unique.
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