solid

So I didn't take a nosedive. Which is as awesome as it is... disconcerting! Because here I was, all prepared to - uhm, nosedive into my usual shut-down-mode, which is where I generally find myself when chaotic happenings end (the need to take apart and rebuild everything I already knew) - but then I didn't. Which leaves me strangely at a loss when it comes to words. I'm in a good place - not Fabulous, but good, and it's unfamiliar. But if I wait untill I've got the words to bend with the road I'm on, this blog will gather dust. I promised myself it wouldn't, and yet it has been empty here for the past two weeks. I started to write and then I stopped. Drafts waiting for - clarity. Or the recycling bin. I'm not sure. Not sure of much at the moment, but - again - in an unfamiliarly good sense :) Things are cooking, but not boiled down. So here are some drawings that came out over the past couple of weeks.

Squirt's bikes. Which seemed like a great subject to draw - lots of lines and technical what-nots to fight with, as well as a good example of the theme I'd thought up for myself: growing. Yes. And then I found myself quite sad ;)

And then there's that. It wasn't immediately inspired by my kid undeniably growing, but it's a part of the whole story anyway, of course. It's something I fight with, still, at times. Not all the time, but it comes up. And right now, strange as it may sound, it feels like a solid thing to come up. Not something that will push me over any kind of edges, not something I'm making harder for myself, but something that is - understood to be hard. I don't know if that makes any kind of sense to anyone but me, but hanging out in a space where I'm actually okay, this is - alright to feel something about...

I don't feel like I'm on my toes. Of course I'm vigilant - I find myself in a strange field of wildflowers, and while I'm enjoying the scenery, and sniffing the air, I know I'm me and I'm vulnerable. But I'm dealing with things, as they come up, and so far?

I'm squeezing just fine :)

Hope you're fine, too. Hope whatever is on your plate is just enough to hang out with, on the sane side of things. 

Here's to whatever lays ahead & facing up! I'll be back... :)

news

I know you might be expecting the photos for the second assignment of the Pure Photo Workshop, but I didn't get around to it... It's hard to admit, because I strongly feel that committing to take part means you commit to take part, but I've got some stuff going on in my 'real life' & I sort of forgot to make time. Saturday snuck up on me! All these single-day national holidays and visiting relatives (my father-in-law is here right now) warp time a little, and my head is spinning just a bit - so, quite out of character, I've given myself permission to drop out, this week ;)

& without much more ado, here's why I'm out-of-sorts: I was asked to show some of my work! I was asked! It's hard for me not to back that up with a story that makes it a little less impressive, but I won't :) I'm just going to go with 'I was asked to show some of my work' :)

The 25th of May to the 1st of June this year will be the Dutch week for non-professional art, and the Fair Trade gift shop (Wereldwinkel) where I volunteer is taking part, displaying art in their shop window. I've never made a secret of drawing a lot - so people know that about me ;) - but I was very surprised when the shop coordinator emailed me to ask if I wanted to be the artist to exhibit!

We decided on what to display - I was quite impressed with how she went for my style, as opposed to the more neutral work I'd slipped in - and I've been working on the prints, polishing little blemishes away since Wednesday ;) Here's what will be shown:

 :D

There's a lot of mayhem in my head. I'm fighting not to down-play, nor to over-stretch and it's hard work! I'm doing okay, I think, but I don't have a lot to say right now. No oversight, no insight either. The funny thing is, every time I come out of a bad stretch, promising myself that for now it will be all about drawing for myself, to be me inside my life, something happens. Something that shakes me up, tells me something, although I'm never quite clear on what exactly, while I'm in the middle of it all. This time, I'm trying to stay calm (haha). I'm going to try and wait this out - to see what might have shifted on the other side. Instead of forcing things to shift right now ;)

I got this flyer in my local art supply shop:

I took it, along with other flyers, and it wasn't until hours later, when I properly looked, that I saw I'm on it :D Not just that, it says 'kunstenaars', which means artists :D So even when I might still have a hard time referring to myself as an artist, this flyer doesn't, so it must be true ;)

(* the T means 'tekenen', which means 'drawings')

I'm ready for brighter days, and I'm not just talking about Summer and sun ;) Hope you're well! What's happy in your life?

balance

You might not think so, from reading here, but we have lovely days, too ;)

When my head is busy, I tend to use this blog to spill. I need to spill somewhere. I think, rethink and overthink, and it needs to go somewhere. To stop it from spinning & swirling, if only for a day or two. But I have a life, too. I like to think that spilling here makes me more able, elsewhere. Places where I need to be able no matter what. When it comes to my kid, I'm there. He sees me sad, he sees me kicking at life, of course - & I honestly believe that it helps somewhere, later in life, to know your mother is a human being with strengths, struggles and weaknesses, which is another discussion - but he gets my most able, too!

We walked through the woods, over the sand dunes to the beach, yesterday. We had some crisps and drinks on the sand, and while Squirt and his dad wanted to find out how cold the water really still is, me and ouma (my South-African mother-in-law is visiting for two weeks) looked for shells. Nothing like the beach to bring out the inner little girl :) 

We walked back to the car park and had a very late... dunch? linner? I don't quite know what to call food at 3.30 pm, but it was good :) 

Everyone else had pancakes, and I had tuna salad on freshly baked, crunchy-crust bread.

One quarter of a slice, immortalised! I didn't do the texture of the salad any justice, but I practised, which is awesome, right?! ;)

We walked about 7k, got sun-kissed (most of us) & sun-burnt (husband) and had a lovely day :) So this is what happens in this life of mine, too. When I'm not here chewing on something, finding feet. I do that a lot - finding feet. Thinking. Overthinking. I won't pretend I don't. But it's not all that's going on, either. We do funny, light, happy around here, too! Just thought you might like to know ;) I went and found my feet where they actually hung out!

everybody

It's blustery outside today. Storm, sunlit, with the fresh feel of Spring on its tail. The type of day that could blow the cobwebs out of your head if you'd just open up wide enough. Hope, and doable like scraps of paper, blown out of reach, but there, to see - and some days, that helps.

I've got no idea how to get started. It's been so long since I sat down and took myself seriously enough to be here. I've been rattling around in a life that seems too big for me for way too long now. I used to fill that space! I even overflowed it, on really good days!

I want to explain, I want to make sense of it - I want to get over it and get out! Part of me is screaming IT'S TOO SOON - YOU'RE STILL WAY TOO CLUELESS - TOO MANY LOOSE ENDS TO MAKE SENSE OF THIS!! And part of me, the quiet part, the little girl, she knows it's time. She knows I need to open up. She knows that this pain feeds on quiet - because it gets to be the only voice inside my head, keeping me in check. She knows the last bits of clean & sane know-this-about-me will mould without light. She knows I need air and wind and being naked. Yes. She's wise. And she's still there, so there's hope. (there's always hope, she says to me. she never tires of repeating herself when I'm off and deaf. she's plugged in, she sees these things much clearer than I do...)

I want to be poetic about it all - make it beautiful where it really stinks, but she tells me not to worry about how it sounds; and once again, she's right. Worrying about how it all sounds is what gets me here in the first place. It locks the door on me. It cuts me off from my gut, and from sanity, to put it dramatically, and that's always the beginning of the end.

This crap loops all through my life. I'd really love to say I'm getting better at handling it, but I'm not - not visibly, not obviously. And the time to get angry about that isn't - now. It's never. It isn't about getting angry, frustrated at what I'm doing to myself, although it always seems that way for the longest time; just kick your own butt, honey! that's all you need - a good whoopin' and you'll be right as rain. If you'd just get in gear and fit in, you'll be dandy and the world is right!

I'm scared of sounding too dramatic. I'm dead scared of being misunderstood. I'm scared of feeling like the only one who gets like this! I'm scared to throw myself out here, naked again. Really, really scared! But I need to. Because all this starts with feeling like I don't fit in, like I'm not good enough, like I'll never get it right - oh yes, elusive it, indeed! - and my first answer always is, to pull out. And I'm starting to think - okay, the little girl inside told me - that I'll never find glu for repair if I don't come out and show myself again.

Basically, it's really simple. Undone of pretty and sliced open, I was raised by a mother who Knows. I'm not here to vilify my mother. It doesn't help. Lessons learned are lessons learned, and in the end, the only thing that really counts is - how you learn to make up for it - how you learn to cope. I'm not here to excuse her, either, but I do know she wasn't out to get me. She meant well. She was - and is - just never flexible enough to realise that I needed to be right, at times, too. Because what I'm left with now is a broken compass. And way too much stock in what a fabled crowd of Other People think.

What I grew up with is this warped blueprint of how the world works: you do things right, you're good. You do things wrong, and this includes all versions of not-quite-right, you're no good, really. There is no manual for Good. There is no manual for Wrong either, but you catch on pretty quickly. You can gather it from a look, a word, a nod. There's a lot of disappointment involved, and you learn to apologise, because it's the quickest way to get on with things. And if you apologise this much, there must be something wrong with you to start with. That gets ingrained. Deeply. That feeling lasts. You hear 'I didn't say anything!', but you know that look and you don't need the words anymore. You weigh looks and gestures and you know. (have you ever considered you interpret too much? she asks, and yes I have. I have with hindsight. I know NOW. and it isn't necessarily too late to change - to learn to ask, but it's so hard to stop the damage mid-sentence, because I'm afraid I'll hear I was right; I'm wrong, and I really don't want to hear the words out loud...)

If I were asked to describe my way in this world, I'd go with tentative vulnerabilty. There is a lot I don't know. I know we all come from different families, different biographies, different circumstances - not to mention cultures, so I don't feel equipped to weigh and judge. And I don't want to weigh and judge. I like the surprise and the sense of wonder. I like making things up as I go along. I don't like carving things in stone, not being able to revisit, to re-examine, to try a different angle. I like to think, to analyse, and I like to brainstorm, to toss things into the air and see how they land. I don't know what was there first - finding a way to cope with being wrong pretty much anyway, or an innate curiosity, but this is what I'm left with. I'm tentative, I'm vulnerable, and I don't really know. I'm vulnerable because I talk about not knowing. I talk about not being sure. I talk about being wrong, re-assessing, trying again - I talk about that all the time. I talk about how hard life is at times, and how I don't know what to do to make sense, spin meaning, and I always hope for 'me, too!'

But I have quite a few People who Know in my life. People who are Sure. About a lot of things. They're sure about their parenting decisions, about what they'll eat tonight. About their politics, the colour of their underwear, their hobbies and how much time spent on those is reasonable. They're sure about their talents, their skills and their abilities. They know how to measure up, and how not to stand out in a crowd. They're awesome, they're good.

These are good, solid people, and I'm not here to vilify them, either. I know no one is that sure. I know that at least part of it is what I hear them say - because I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop, to be wrong, as I expect to be, at the bottom of things - and in part it's a - cultural thing? A contemporary thing? That we need to be seen to be sure? To show the world we know what we're doing? To have and hold opinions like they're our armour against change? I'm not sure (haha), all I know is, me and my open vulnerability, my lay-it-on-the-table attitude - when my solid ground starts sloping - I'm no match for their Knowledge.

I'm vulnerable because I expect to be wrong. And because I don't have a lot of worthiness in my back pocket on the best of days, let alone the slippery sloping days. I wasn't taught to carry myself, I was taught to - whatever you do, get it right. Without a compass. I don't have goals to fall back on when things start coming apart - meaningful stuff that will drag me out and up and into the light, because what I swallowed all those years ago was - life isn't about meaning, it's about not putting your foot wrong. It's about doing what's expected & about Knowing - being sure. I grew up thinking People Know. Hoping one day, I'd Know, too. Because Everybody Knows. Only really sad, silly, broken people - flawed, faulty, incomplete people don't know.

Some days - more and more days, longer stretches, it's important to remind myself of that! - when it's me and my gut and my brushes and my je ne sais quoi, and things are in place - I'm soaring with the best of them. I don't give a rat's ass about Knowing - knowing that I already do know on an instinctive, intuitive level that I'm alright, I'm okay, flying with my warts and who'll stop me?! But my gut gets clogged. It invariably does. Because I'm not necessarily heading somewhere - shouldn't I be headed somewhere - and shouldn't I Know?! As soon as I try to control being okay - hell, being Fabulous! - as soon as I try to tentatively, vulnerably explain it - as soon as I look up to make sure People see that I'm doing alright...

... that's when I see those looks, those gestures again. That's when I hear People telling me what to do, how they Know, how they got it covered, how their ducks are in a row. These People do a lot of their talking in my head. I talk for them. Inner mean chick does. She knows the drill. She knows when I'm ready to listen, and she takes no prisoners. She dresses like Everybody and digs in. I lose faith in myself and my gut, like I've always done in the face of Everybody, and I literally, physically pull back from the world. I stop seeing friends, stop answering emails, stop drawing, stop hanging out on Facebook, stop reading how everyone seems to have got it all figured out, and I don't want to hear about it either. I lock myself in with the one person who can make it all even worse: me.

For the past two months - give or take - I've been tearing strips off myself, reducing me to something not quite fit to feed a stray dog. All while fighting it, of course. It's been a war zone here - fighting myself for fighting myself for fighting myself. I've been playing footy with irritable bowel syndrome too, for the first time in my life - which is less than helpful when you're trying to trust your gut - but it's told me some truths by joining the party.

When you try to find your gut, your intuition, your I-know-a-few-things-about-me? Don't adjourn into your head. It's what I've always done - that's where the austere room lives in the world - but for the first time ever, I got feedback! It didn't help, and it still doesn't help just to know, but it's a serious clue about how to get out! And clues are good!

There are huge, gaping holes in this story. There are the things I don't know, things I'm not sure how to add up, things I don't want to drag up again, some good juicy examples of things that were said, and a good stack of things that would make this a book, as opposed to a long-winded blog post. One of the biggest holes is probably - why don't I throw everything at fitting in, if it matters that much?! All I can offer is - I think I tried that. Way back when. And it didn't work. I didn't get it. I didn't know what I was supposed to do, or what getting it right was meant to feel like - so I gave up. I think I decided at some point that it's - easier to come in from left-field, the element of surprise and all that - than to try and come in all dressed up, facing disappointment and a need to apologise. At least this way I could always claim they just didn't get it - even if it never really helped for long. Same fight, different coat - but it's how I 'coped' and I can't go back. At the bottom of the whole thing, it's always been about fighting the unfightable. Fighting myself for my sanity. Because it's about what I believe about myself, in the end, now that I'm all grown up. I'm not entirely clueless anymore, but I don't know everything. Ah. Elusive. I'm just not Know Everything-material. My personality can't handle it, my gut knows, but my head is stuck in the sand, ostrich-style. Or something. Holes, huh?

What I do know for sure, is that it's time to go out into the world again. Naked. Tentatively vulnerable with all I've got. And my brushes. I actually know at the bottom of all this - it's okay. I'm alright. I know more than enough. And the only way I can prove it to myself is if I go out in this raging storm out there and stay upright. One street corner at a time.

Do I like my personality? Do I want to change? Is it comfortable, not-knowing, and is there some sort of comfort in the falling, too? Some peace in knowing the enemy? I don't know. I'm forever much too close to this whole thing to claim clarity. What I do think is - I should get me one of those fabled Tribes, a gathering of Soul Sisters to keep me honest and on the straight-but-not-narrow - a new and improved Everybody to hear in my head and change my life! I LOVE reading about those, come across them all the time - great idea, too! Just one question: where do you get one?!

My story isn't all that unique. I don't come from unimaginably terrible things - I just live with a lot of harsh glaring lights and struggle, at times. So why do I get naked and share, anyway? Because I've been really lost, and really lonely lately. It helps, to write it down. It sort of feels like a fresh start, an opening to slip through - or the promise of one, at the very least.

And because I want to tell you - because we all need to hear it at times - 'oh yes, I get that. Me, too, sweetie. Me, too.' You don't have to say it, if you don't want to. I just want you to know you're not alone!

elemental

No. It isn't metal, although it definitely tastes like it.

It's earth, speaking Chinese.

It's spleen.

It's worrying.

It's stuck in overanalysing minor details.

Apparently, I need to sing and be open.

Yeah.

optimism

* people-drawing because the teacher told me to ;)

* subject matter provided by the Just Draw It! FB group :) 

IF - Myth

I've linked to Illustration Friday for the first time ever :D

I wish I could say I'm going to be doing this every week, or even regularly. As far as this week's topic of myth goes, having time to do everything I'd love to do - that's a total myth, too. I've been trying to climb the walls of constraint, but heck, they're slippery! I know I'm going to have to accept that bit of truth, right there, but I'm not ready. Not quite. In fact, these days, the limits time puts on what I can do is my biggest frustration! It's like living at home with parents again - kicking against a regime that won't budge! Darn ;)

There's a blog post in that, but not today. Time has put a spoke in that wheel & all. But it's okay - I'm here, and that's what counts! Besides, things have been a little on the heavy, soul-deep side here. And while there is nothing wrong with that, because I'm embracing the way I think about things, and this is the perfect space for hugging my warts in public - perhaps it's good to break it up with something light & fun ;) A reminder that whatever else I write about here, my life really is good, and I do have a fully grown funny bone! My kid is hilarious, and he so takes after me ;)

I bought this pair of heels spur of the moment. Cheered on by my four-year-old - he loves heels, and that's not because he regularly sees me in any ;) I'm 1m80cm tall. That's always been my excuse not to buy heels. I'm not sure why - but I guess that's what comes with being almost forty and finally finding comfort in this skin. Why not? I asked myself last Wednesday, in the face of hot sales prices (they were a bargain!) and a dancing kid.

It didn't take me long to figure out 'why not'. Haha, it will take me weeks of indoor practise before I'll be able to merely take them around the block. On my feet, that is ;) Talk about outside my comfort zone! But in a way, it's perfect. It's called for. And I will practise :D

I did this drawing for Koosje's ecourse Just Draw It! I'm having so much FUN!! I'm being dragged out of another comfort zone - pen and watercolours - to get into the basics of drawing, and it's awesome! I taught myself everything I know about drawing, so far. And by teaching I mean a process of trial and error on repeat. Which is great, of course. But it's really informative to be taught the basics. To go back to where I've never really been and see both what I already do know - just from getting my hands dirty for about three years now - and what could use (serious) practise. And I am practising - all the pockets of time I can find! Up to my wrists in graphite this week, and loving even the eraser rubbings - which is a stretch ;) Koosje is a lovely, patient, knowledgeable, enthusiastic, inspired and inspiring teacher. I'll share the next course dates on this blog, because I really think you'd love taking it. I'm just sorry we're not in class together now :)

One day, my son will bring home a girlfriend in heels. That's a given. All I can promise him until then, is that I'll work my butt off to be able to walk him to school in these one day. While I'm the woman in his life. And before he's too old to care ;)

What's taking you out of your comfort zone these days - and are you leaning in? :)

sticking

So I’ve promised myself that I’m off looking for the truths of me. I want to find myself beyond what I believe I am. Not who I want to become when all the growing-up is done; not who I think I should be. Not who my mother would like me to be, and not necessarily anyone’s next best friend, either! I’m going to be spending time getting acquainted with myself – with the little girl inside, as well as the she-devil! I’ve embarked on a trip to learn to embrace myself, warts and all!

& it goes deep. It means I need to change my operating system – update my software to run on a new promise. I’ve always been working the idea that I was growing towards a better version of myself, but I just don’t believe that’s true anymore! I’ve always sort of held back from really looking for myself inside my life, because I thought I should wait till I’d be right-er, better, ready-er. But when will that be?

Never. That’s when. When the bottom-line is growth, you’ll never be fully grown. You can’t be, because when you are, the bottom falls out! At least that’s what I think by now. I’ve never quite put into words what I wanted to be at the end of all that becoming, because I’ve never felt equipped to know who I’d be when I’d finally find myself as something that I’m most certainly, quite seriously NOT, yet... Do you know where you’ll be when the growing is done? It’s a never-ending process of looking at lack, looking at not-quite, looking at room for improvement.

This whole new way of being – as opposed to becoming; learning – as opposed to perpetually ‘growing to measure up’; it’s a process, again. Of course! I’ve lived with the old words for so long, that there is no way I won’t slip up, fall back, get left behind, forget to bring my je ne sais quoi! And the beauty is – it doesn’t matter! It’s all me, it’s all you – it’s the being human in ‘human being’! I don’t have to berate myself, belittle myself because I think I might have missed an obvious signpost that’s supposed to point me towards my life. I’m not missing the point; there is no growth chart, no manual, no map to guide me on the Road to Me, because I’m already there! I’m the me inside this skin, beautiful, warts & all!

This is all new, and it feels good! It feels solid! It feels right to walk towards myself, showing up to meet me, instead of dreaming about who I might be when I’m finally finished! Yes it does! In moments, it does. In theory it does. When I’m chatting about it with myself, in my head? Awesome idea! But in reality, trying to live this? It doesn’t just feel awkward, it feels utterly alien! Who am I when I can’t curl up into a tiny ball, feeling like I’m always coming up short when things spin out of reach?

I’ve got a beautiful answer, here it is: “Well, I’m the little girl inside myself who can feel like she’s coming up short, and curl up into a tiny ball! But I’ll tell myself I’m not always coming up short. That feeling this doesn’t change who I am inside. That it’s okay to feel what I feel, as long as I don’t swallow it, become it, wear it like it’s mine. And that curling up into a tiny ball really feels comfortable, at times.”

But the truth is – in daily life, I’m back to baby-steps again, and it feels really, really weird to be kind to myself. I know that rock-solidly means I’ve been chewing myself to the bones of me for too long, but I have – for most of my life. And there is no quick fix.

In a way, the idea of perpetual growth, the not-quite-ness of it all? It’s a perfect excuse! Which is why it worked for so long – especially the past three years, when I rubbed it in more gently than I did before. That means I’ve been patronising myself, of course, but it feels – comfortable, looking back! Like a sweater worn soft by years of daily wear, never mind the gaping holes... When you’re not quite anything, quite yet, there is a lot of room to manoeuvre! Because you’re not all there yet, anyway, so it doesn’t matter all that much. But of course it did matter! & why wasn’t I ‘there’ yet?! There was a whole bloody castle worth of room to get really angry and endlessly frustrated at the whole process – so what, exactly, am I calling comfortable?! I mean, I’m not going to pretend that I’m here trying to embrace those dratted warts because I was bored ;) 

But this whole new thing? It’s just – really hard work. And I’ll admit that somewhere, deep down, I’d hoped that – because I already am that Me with Those Warts, it’d be sort of easy... That all I had to do was see and embrace and we’d be done with all this crap! Okay, it might need some tweaking, some fine-tuning – but essentially, it’d all fall into place, land softly, and I’d be on my merry way to where I was meant to go! No! Hold on! That should be where I already am, albeit unbeknownst ;)

Instead, of course, I find myself utterly lost and unable in so many ways – this woman I already am? Uncharted, alien territory, people! – and I can’t even tell myself “don’t worry, honey, you’ll grow into your skin, one fine day!” Can you see why that would help? Why that, to me & to how I’ve always done things, would be a sweet song (like a lullaby...) right about now?

Because the new answer is harsh! It could be something like “I know you’re lost, sweetie, but that’s a truthful part of you, right now. You need to lean in, see the bottom and embrace it.” And while that’s true, while I know that if I let myself be where I find myself, without fighting it tooth and nail – I’ll get back up much quicker, I might learn that it isn’t such a scary place to be, because the little girl inside does know how to swim – yes, while that really is the bottom of how I want to learn to see, I just don’t know how to talk to myself like that, be patient like that. I’m really trying, but to my untrained inner ear, it sounds more like “That’s the you inside the you, silly cow. Yup, that’s the pathetic extend of what you’re trying to be happy with! Lost? Again?! Sounds about right! Good luck with that!”

I want to hold myself accountable, this year. I want to chart this process & stick with it, because it really matters. It feels good to realise that I do know how to answer my own questions with love, even when at times I feel utterly unequipped to hear myself beyond the twisted, loveless version.

It’s more than a learning curve, it’s about mothering myself! It’s about learning how to listen to the wisdom inside. As told by the person who knows me best. To meet myself as a friend, instead of someone I need to grow away from. Because when put like that, isn’t that a crazy thing to strive for?! Leave yourself as far behind as you possibly can! That way... Uhm... Yes, well... Indeed!

“Stick with ME, sweet pea!” This mantra popped into my head the other day – just like that, walking back from taking the kid to school; out on my lonesome, minding the dog poo, not looking for wise, per se. But the words stuck with me, and they help me focus! I don’t know who Me is, exactly, and it might take a whole year to make a mere dent in all that, but wisdom is mundane at times, especially when it comes unbidden. Sometimes, all you can do is not wander off. Even if that – almost paradoxically – means meandering on a new path without a map. Sometimes, courage is nothing more than telling yourself to stick with you – because you’re worth it. & that’s not a small thing!

So stick with you! I’m sticking with me! I really believe, right now, that the courage to do that is the start of everything else!

2013

Here it is, January 3rd: my New Year's wish for you - and for me!

be you

I know I used more words in the illustration, but in the end, that's what it boils down to. Nothing else, that's it. I feel it's about time - for me, anyway - to stand tall and wear it on the outside. To be proud of who I am, and to start owning my warts. To no longer wait until I've grown beyond 'not quite there yet' - but to make it happen with what's there; here, in me and within reach! Because there's plenty to work with, right there! Me and my warts, we'll go a long way once we start working together - I'm sure of it!

Of course this means stuff. About putting myself out there, about being honest, about what it is I do exactly, and what I want to share... I'm not altogether clear on it all - quite yet. But I've cut myself some slack. I didn't need to have the past year wrapped up - bow on top - by the 31st of December, and I didn't have to have this one all mapped out by January 1st! How's that for going with my warts, leaning in and being gentle?!

There is more where this came from, but not right now. I just needed to be here, before the first week of this New Year is gone. Because not having it all figured out quite yet doesn't mean I can't just show up. And be. Here. Warts and all. To wish you the best year yet! A happy, inspired and creative year. And to wish for you to come out and be you. I think you're gorgeous!

laundry

character

I'm going to share myself as a chair.

I knew you didn't see that one coming :D

Pikaland Make Your Mark assignment # 5, finished about a month ago.

Draw the chair you think you are, artistically. I think I made it more about me in general, but that's okay. I'm okay with that. It's fascinating either way, and I was surprised at what came up & out! 

Me as a chair: black & white as instructed for part one - brutal honesty as a personal touch.

Part 2: chair, coloured. Yes. It's quite possible you recognise this chair. Three drawings in one week, people, it was hard work! So I cut a corner. But only a little one. And one that's quite fitting, when you think of it ;)

And finally, my chair against a background without white. I love this one. It involved watercolour, photoshop, micron pen drawing, more watercolour, some gouache and coloured pencils, more photoshop, actual printing, cutting and pasting (the cushion), lettering and scanning! It was an exercise in getting out of my comfortzone, while still ending up with an illustration that's me - both in style and punchline :) 

On a different note, my wrist is still not back to what it should be. I know what's wrong with it - stress, from my head into my shoulder muscles, down into my wrist to settle there. I've had it before, but never this long or quite this severe, and it's been getting me down and optimistic, pessimistic and back up again. I've discovered that I need my wrist for pretty much everything I love to do, as well as for everything I sort of have to do, like cleaning and chopping veggies. While it really is no hardship not to be able to cook healthy family meals or chase dust bunnies for a while - it is a b**ch not to be able to fill all that lovely downtime with all the things I complain I never have time to do more of... Ouch.

I am when I write, when I draw and paint, and when I blog, read blogs + comment and spend time on Facebook being amazed, amused and touched. I am not so much when I can't. It's a lesson. A big, overwhelming one. One that leaves me kicking and screaming until I tell myself it will pass when I stop fighting it. Do I believe that, to the core? I do. I have to. Because this is what I reinvented myself to be when I started cleaning out my closets back in 2010. And I really don't think I've got the stomach to go back in! Sorry for the dramatics. Just thought I'd let you know where I am these days. While I'm there. I have absolutely no intention to stay here, much longer!

Anything you're ready to kick to the curb?! I'd love the perspective right now!

MYM

It's been almost two weeks since this blog has seen any action from me... Lots of comments though, thank you so much :D

I've been a little - okay, a lot! - busy with Pikaland's Making Your Mark e-course. It's a course that promises to help you find or investigate your personal style in various ways, and so far that's true. There is a new assignment every week, and there is plenty of room to stretch yourself, if you choose to. It's interesting! Last week I had to create an image from a combination of one item on a list of things I KNOW and one item off a list of things I LOVE, and then recreate that image in both pen & ink and collage! It was a total challenge, especially to get it all finished within a week ;) But I did, and I love the way it coaxed me out of my comfort zone - especially the black and white image that was supposed to include tones and values. Man, tones and values are hard! I knew that, I've only just begun trying to add more light and shadows to my watercolour pieces, but then to decide whether red is lighter than blue, and how to represent that in ink lines? Hard!

Here is what I did in my 'medium of choice'. My 'items' were "I LOVE going outside with my kid on his balance bike - he's given me new eyes and a new lease on wonder", and "I KNOW my kid is half South-African". The elephant was annoying - I miscoloured it, then re-coloured it, which didn't work as well as I'd hoped, and then I tried to rescue the whole blessed overworked thing with coloured pencils. Let's just say he's got a skin condition and be done with it ;) And let's say I'm able to draw an elephant that looks like an elephant, because in the end, that impressed me most :D As well as how I drew my kid :D Sure, there is something not quite right with his hairline, but hey - we all need areas of practise, right?! ;)

This week's assignment will be fun too, I think and hope! We were meant to go to a museum or art gallery, and revisit an existing work of art. And while that sounds like fun (can't remember the last time I went to a museum - shame on me!), I don't really see when I could be doing that and finish some art work before Monday. And then I remembered (funny how these things work, really!) that there is a whole ado around here about a couple of months that Claude Monet spent in Zaandam back in 1871! I investigated and found out there is a little book about it, so I went out and got that - and there are quite a couple of surprises there :D But I won't spoil the fun just yet - I'll post about that when I'm able to illustrate my findings ;)

Yes, I'm enjoying MYM, for sure! I love a good challenge! I am a little disappointed in the lacking sense of community there though. After both assignments, I've been going out of my way to find something constructive to say about each and every piece of art work posted - because I feel that's part of the deal, and because I enjoy seeing what others come up with, for inspiration and at times awe, but hardly anyone bothers to come back and do the same. Apart from Koosje & Jodi - much appreciated :) Of course that is what it is, but in the end, I feel I've paid a lot of money for just a challenge and some feedback from the course's creators - who don't come back for a bit of dialogue either. But it is what it is. All that said and paid for, I will enjoy the challenge, and see what I can get out of Monet in Zaandam. Because honestly? I probably never would have investigated what the ado was about if it wasn't for MYM :)

Are you straying outside your comfort zone in any way? I'd love to hear and see!!

loot

These are the drawings I came home with after working outside - or at least in public ;) - last week :D

This was lunch on the 26th, on an art date with a friend :) We did lots of walking and talking, and we even managed to draw some :) Lovely day!!

Another art date on Saturday, with a friend in Gouda, to make up for the missed Sketchcrawl the week before :) We sat on a park bench in the garden of a museum, surrounded by beautiful old buildings - but I ended up challenging myself with angles again. I figure the only way to get better is to keep trying ;)

On the way back from Gouda, we ended up in a traffic jam because of road works. And I decided to take out my sketchbook :D I'm really starting to dig the idea of bringing it everywhere :D

And here's my lovely boy. His back, anyway ;) I am having such a hard time with realistic faces... I maimed him in the drawing I did before (which I tore out of my sketchbook, totally going against principles. It really was that bad!). But then I was struck with the brilliant idea that I could focus on his cute little backside ;) The pockets on this pair of jeans are stitched low - just so you know - that wasn't me missing the truth again ;)

That last drawing, on Queen's Day (celebrating the Dutch Queen's BD, fleamarkets everywhere and people wearing lots of orange)? I did it in the park, on the playground, sat on a bench, surrounded by throngs of people! I'm definitely getting braver, and I'm really starting to love just going with the flow! Sure, I hesitated, but I did it, anyway :D

When last did you do something anyway? I'd love to hear :)

song

Here's number 5* in Red Parka Diaries' drawing challenge: draw a picture inspired by your favourite song (or just pick a line from a song).

I picked a line from Mumford & Sons' Thistle & Weeds. I'm currently loving their Sigh No More album (thanks, S!). It's a great backdrop to movement & get-doing! It isn't necessarily a happy place, but there is energy! I love the folk-style music in combination with the angsty lyrics, and depending on my mood, I listen to either or both ;)

Yup. Cartooney moi - burlap-covered for decency; not in thistle & weeds, as instructed - is looking way too happy for this song - but not for this cut-out! I'm planting quality Hope Seed here, people! You need to smile along with that. It's in the manual. It helps the seeds grow roots as well as wings! I could use a bit of both - who doesn't??

So here's to healthy Hope Plants for all of us! May they bring the magic and the happy :) Would love to know where you could use some, if you're willing to share!


* links to this challenge's number 9, number 2, number 1 & number 10

relearning

slogging

beautiful

myth

I love advertiser mythology ;)
Of course, since this tea is in my cupboard, I've bought it; hook, line & sinker...
It's lovely tea, honestly. But I can multitask. I can throw a hissy fit while sipping!

Day 21

Oh my gosh! Proud for persevering far outside my comfortzone! I don't do faces! Let alone large, center piece faces! You can see why ;) But this happened, and I stuck with it. And as if that's not enough, I'm publishing it, here. Sorry folks ;)

Today's gratitude is for regaining my footing after weeks of being lost, somewhere... I'm not all there, quite yet, but I'm on my way ;) I'm grateful for being able to call myself again on something without freaking out, screeching 'FAILURE!!' This was a battle going on on the inside, mostly. Outward (outside) appearance; calm and composed, for the most part.

Yesterday I caught myself thinking vicious thoughts. About other people, and myself too, eventually. The kind of stuff that really doesn't help. And it's hard to shut up that voice, but I made a start. Drawing this helped. I'm listening to Ingrid Michaelson this morning, and that helps too:

I could write my name at the age of three
and I don't need anyone to cut my meat for me
I'm a big girl now, see my big-girl-shoes
It'll take more than just a breeze to make me fall overboard...

That bit. Not the rest. Unless it's me, because I am always trying to catch myself. Hard work, that. But always rewarding, if I stand still long enough to feel grateful & thank myself ;)

Thank yourself today. For something! It really does feel good!

Day 7

True story... My mother gave my grandparents a cake set for their 12.5-year anniversary; 1 large cake platter and 12 plates, decorated with different fruit & leaf patterns. It must have been around 1960. The platter and 8 plates had survived years and years of good use, and I inherited those when my oma passed away.

I used them for the first time last Sunday, for my home-made birthday cake, and my mom was so happy to see them out and in use, in my house...

Sunday evening, when I tried to put the stack back in the cupboard, somehow, 7 out of 8 plates slid off onto the kitchen floortiles. And broke. They didn't just break really, they shattered. Leaving shards everywhere. I cried while we cleaned and threw them away. I still haven't told my mom. I know it's going to make her sad, too.

I drew this plate on Monday, for AEDM, day 7, while eating the last piece of chocolate cake. I was thinking about my grandmother, my oma. These plates have been the center of every cake-worthy celebration since before I was born. They were a symbol of family to me. With my grandmother in the middle of that small safe universe.

I am grateful to my grandmother, for showing me what family is all about. Lots of good stuff, all about warmth - especially when I was a little girl. And lots of wise stuff, about people. My grandmother always saw the best in people, except in herself. She passed away in March of this year, and I miss her.

Update: I just phoned my mom to tell her about the plates... Her response? "Well, I guess it was their time then. I was amazed that they lasted this long!" How's that for mindful wabi sabi wisdom? ;)

I had an idea. I have my birthday coming up soon, and I've asked my mom to come cake-plate-shopping with me. I'd love to find plates that will go with the large platter, and she's going to gift them to me for my BD. That way, I'll still sort of have grandma-mother-daughter plates that will hopefully last till it's time to bequeath them :)