This is all?
All in all, it is what it is. Or some such, I suppose.
Time to move again.
Locally. Saint Petersburg suits me more than Tampa does, but it's just as well--near enough to make no difference, for my purposes.
New employ. Face painting. *grins and raises a brow* ...no more of the self-induced misery by way of forcing my way through corporate paradigm. Which, that bit of an operation dynamic is so prevalent in society, without working for a completely independent business it'll be an aspect which yet persists. At least within the realm of lowest-level work, though, it's not one which I feel compelled to conform to for the sake of survival within the ranks.
Merely, it's an aspect. Like a uniform. Or a means of keeping time records. Just as banal and inconsequential to my personal contributions as any of these--accepted as present, but not internalized nor pressured as to do so.
And...my work consists of painting. All day. On children's faces.
Nothing does quite so well to brighten the spirit as to see the wonder and joy of a child enthused at one's handiwork.
And I paint. All day.
Did I mention that?
Once I've bolstered my confidence to the extent that I'm no longer again questioning my very being, let alone my worth, this gig is going to become even more fulfilling than it already is.
I'm stoked.
Today has been wonderful and exhausting. Spent the night with Wendy-Lady, after musics were had, and awoke to beach-time in terms of drum circle. Then, free concert downtown.
Good stuff. Music and great company.
Now, sleep.
Many hugs and much love to you all.
Time to move again.
Locally. Saint Petersburg suits me more than Tampa does, but it's just as well--near enough to make no difference, for my purposes.
New employ. Face painting. *grins and raises a brow* ...no more of the self-induced misery by way of forcing my way through corporate paradigm. Which, that bit of an operation dynamic is so prevalent in society, without working for a completely independent business it'll be an aspect which yet persists. At least within the realm of lowest-level work, though, it's not one which I feel compelled to conform to for the sake of survival within the ranks.
Merely, it's an aspect. Like a uniform. Or a means of keeping time records. Just as banal and inconsequential to my personal contributions as any of these--accepted as present, but not internalized nor pressured as to do so.
And...my work consists of painting. All day. On children's faces.
Nothing does quite so well to brighten the spirit as to see the wonder and joy of a child enthused at one's handiwork.
And I paint. All day.
Did I mention that?
Once I've bolstered my confidence to the extent that I'm no longer again questioning my very being, let alone my worth, this gig is going to become even more fulfilling than it already is.
I'm stoked.
Today has been wonderful and exhausting. Spent the night with Wendy-Lady, after musics were had, and awoke to beach-time in terms of drum circle. Then, free concert downtown.
Good stuff. Music and great company.
Now, sleep.
Many hugs and much love to you all.