"Outer Space"

I had trouble with this post.  I wrote about aliens, art therapy, Bobby Vinton... Everyone can see how aliens relate to "outer space", but Bobby Vinton and art therapy might be harder connections to follow.  Trust me, it all makes sense in my head.

I've gotten a lot out of my art therapy excavations of my "inner space" and this painting is the latest in these efforts.  You can jump to outer space from there.  Too much tweeting, tv, and whatnot obscures our ability to think for ourselves and own our feelings.

Bobby Vinton?  He tried to get me into his hotel room when I was a 15-year-old maid.  He was in his 40s.  His songs make me want to rip the radio out of the car.  It's a mostly repressed hatred, but that's how art therapy can be helpful.  I don't think about him until "Mr. Lonely"* comes on and I have a 15-year-old's reaction.  Back then, I was further annoyed because Mom was star-struck and a bit jealous when I vented to her about it.  She's of the generation of teeny boppers who worshipped Vinton as a teen idol, but still.

One memory leads to another, some of those memories so old and forgotten that I would never have thought that they still have power, but they do.  Remembering and seeing the past from my present helps me change the narrative of my life.  It's liberating.

I think of this series of paintings as my resume, not to be confused with my portfolio.  A portfolio is full of examples of best work.  A resume is more about what happened and what was learned.  I've got the finished paintings propped up against the back of the couch and it's interesting to see my life in such a visual way.  One more painting to go and then I'm calling this series quits.  I've even got ideas for the next series.  (In case you're looking for Vinton in this painting, he's in the painting in progress, not this one.)

This painting is full of memories of my early art career.  Yeah, triangles, T-squares, ruling pens, press type, and rubber cement.  The good old days.  Well, maybe not entirely good since I've felt a need to do art therapy about them, but there was good in those days.  There's good in all periods of time, even when it feels like there isn't, though sometimes that's hard to remember.

I miss the joy of working in an art studio full of other creative people.  We played, we laughed, we came up with really great ideas for our clients.  We built off of each other's ideas.  For instance, the Lake Metroparks logo began with two other artists.  I fished one of the ideas I out of a waste basket.  All of us were happy when the client was happy after I remodeled what they had begun.  There was so much to learn, and so many people who were willing to teach it. 

I love it when I varnish these paintings.  It's like all of the issues represented are finally addressed without a need to revisit them again.  The varnish seals them from infecting my current life.  Done, done, finis.

As for aliens, did you know about half of Americans believe in UFOs?  About 17% say they've seen one.  Of course some of those people may have been looking at Venus, but there are still quite a few sightings by credible people which aren't explained away by swamp gas.  The logo below is something I created for a local group who investigates the topic.  Their website is here.

*I was nice about the link for Mr. Lonely's song.  The clip shows him at his teen idol best, which was waaaay before my time.

"Transformation"

There's odd satisfaction to seeing people scavenge stuff piled on my tree lawn for garbage pick up.  I felt I should run out and say it's all been contaminated with mouse poop and mold, but it rained.  Nature protected them by washing it.  I was also tempted to ask somebody to help me carry out bigger pieces of furniture, but I was tired.  Maybe next week?

I've been trying to transform my basement, but it's a slow go since I'm very sensitive to whatever lurks down there.  I suspect the worst culprit is mold I found on the rafters once the mouse poop ceiling came down.  My eyes have been red and swollen.  My tip for the week is to put used teabags on them to suck out the evil spirits.

When not washing rafters (spiking my delicate hands with a nail and splinters), I've been washing endless basement stuff.  There's a lot of it.  You wouldn't know it to walk through the main part of my house, but I collect and hoard things.  For instance, 8 teapots -- and I never use a teapot.  They're just pretty.  One was Grandma's.  I can't get rid of a Grandma thing, even if it's contaminated with mouse poop and mold dust.  I carefully washed it and packed it nicely in a new box.  Some of the others have unpleasant memories attached though.  I'm debating whether or not to start selling things.

I've also continued to try to transform myself by plodding along on my latest art therapy painting.  This latest has been dragging, but it is accomplishing its purpose.  Slowing down and really thinking about a hard period of my past helps me see things differently.  I can see positives.  I can sew negatives together in a different way.

I think most of us create a shorthand in our minds about the past.  For instance, my ex-husband is a narcissist.  He hurt my self-esteem.  Bad husband.  Slam the door on the past.  The painting isn't about him, but I can't think about that period of time without remembering the part he played, and throwing out the mental shorthand, really spending time thinking through things, I discover new truths that I can actually feel in my body.  Fiddling with the painting layout, I actually laughed when I came up with a moment of gratitude towards him.  I didn't think it was possible.

We can't ignore the past.  We carry it around all the time, even when we refuse to acknowledge it.  It effects our decisions and behavior.  It creates who we are now.  It becomes our choice what we're going to do with it.

We can't change the past, but we can change the narrative.  The fact that this painting is taking me a long time to create is an indication of how complicated the issue is for me.  It gives me something to think about when I'm washing rafters and dishes.  And like cleaning physical things, I feel like I'm scrubbing my mind.  I think I'll be a lot happier when all the mold and mouse poop is gone, really and metaphorically.

BTW, the keys are just a part of the painting.  I'll post the whole thing if it ever gets finished.

"Adding wings to caterpillars does not create butterflies, it creates awkward and dysfunctional caterpillars. Butterflies are created through transformation." ~ Stephanie Marshall

"Twins 2"

Last week I said my most recent painting didn't have any twins in it so I'd post it this week instead.  Since IF has neglected to give me a new word for the week, I guess the "twin" is the title?

I happily showed Bro2 my recent creative output and he said, "Nobody's going to buy your bitch paintings."  I laughed.  Selling the paintings isn't really the point, though I wonder if maybe people would want to buy them?  I've certainly put a lot of energy into them, and I'm feeling quite pleased with myself.  When I told a friend about Bro's comment, she said nobody would know I was bitching if I didn't tell them.  "It just looks officey, and lots of people can relate to office clutter."

I've said in the past that I left my last job mad.  I decided to store my anger on canvas instead of carrying it around.  It seems to be working.  Maybe it's a petty vengeance to paint the names of sinners at a religious organization, but I feel better for having done it.  Maybe religious people will like my quotes?

The wicked are overthrown by their wickedness, but the just find refuge in their integrity." ~ Proverbs 14:32

"To trust that everything that happens to us is for our good, is hope." ~ Mother Angelica

"You see Lord, how I am wronged.  Do me justice!  You see their vindictiveness, all their plots against me.  You hear their reproach, all their plots against me, the whispered murmurings against me all day long: give them what they deserve Lord according to their deeds: give them hardness of heart: your curse be upon them.  Pursue them in wrath and destroy them from under the Lord's heaven!" ~ Lamentations 3:59-66

I had these quotes on my bulletin board at work.  One day, I saw a priest reading that quote from Lamentations.  He didn't say a word.  He knew it was justified.

The charts prove points I doubt anyone else wants to understand.  The important thing is I was right.  Life would be so much easier if people understood that from the beginning because I believe in the fortune cookie's wisdom: "When working towards the solution to a problem, it always helps if you know the answer."

Nobody assigned me to art therapy.  It just seemed like a healthier alternative than bombing the church (or indulging in violent fantasies) -- and I feel healthier.  I discovered that despite all the miserable people and events at that job, there were quite a few aspects I really enjoyed, looking up vengeful Bible quotes for instance.  And beyond that, I found I was really good at all those numbers, I designed pretty and effective mailings, I improved my writing skills, and maybe most important, I made real friends whom I value.

I smile when I look at my "bitch painting".  I think my art therapy worked.  Now I'm working on a painting of the nasty job before that :)

My personal prayer request