I'm going to sleep. Try.
I haven't been writing lately because the words define too much. For now I have no power over them and I have no say in things. Everyone has these, these blank spots and false starts, and i realised how little i was accomplishing and left it.
i started a painting and colours take up too much energy for words. Instead i look at it- right side up, upside down, slightly to the left, back up again-- i like this one right side up, surprisingly- and i do not bother to remind myself that it's only paint. It's the brush strokes, I find, where the depth lies; one would guess the colour- form, mass, yes, but not the secrets.
I find myself thinking about what things mean.
health is more than i could hope for right now. i keep looking at my knotwork but find myself unable to start another. i am fascinated by textures, physically and especially visually. Warmth, softness, hazy light, the illusion of distance. Skin. I'm having difficulty sleeping at night; i think i'm going through withdrawl.
maybe tonight i'll pull out the indian blanket.
i'm having a hard time not talking to people. problem being that things will be much more difficult if i talk to them the way that occurs to me. I'm glad no one asks me questions. They would hate if i had to answer them.
i haven't used a heavy bag since those weeks before leaving, those weeks were i bloodied and bruised my knuckles. They didn't heal til long after i arrived at by that point there were too many things to notice old hurts. i haven't picked up a sword in far too long and every time i always must remind myself that things are not handled that way. but there's something so very organic about metal wrought in those forms- in some hands, it is natural. I suppose it is the feeling that I am finally doing something coupled with the frustration that it is not nearly so epic as i could hope. I didn't expect it to be. but the leaves are changing and fog covers the land and this strange little citadel is silent in the haze.
these past few weeks been focussed on so many things; i wonder if this comes about through this concentration, with this realisation of these things i need to see. Need to touch.
There is not much to complain of but never enough sleep. I am going through withdrawl.
i started a painting and colours take up too much energy for words. Instead i look at it- right side up, upside down, slightly to the left, back up again-- i like this one right side up, surprisingly- and i do not bother to remind myself that it's only paint. It's the brush strokes, I find, where the depth lies; one would guess the colour- form, mass, yes, but not the secrets.
I find myself thinking about what things mean.
health is more than i could hope for right now. i keep looking at my knotwork but find myself unable to start another. i am fascinated by textures, physically and especially visually. Warmth, softness, hazy light, the illusion of distance. Skin. I'm having difficulty sleeping at night; i think i'm going through withdrawl.
maybe tonight i'll pull out the indian blanket.
i'm having a hard time not talking to people. problem being that things will be much more difficult if i talk to them the way that occurs to me. I'm glad no one asks me questions. They would hate if i had to answer them.
i haven't used a heavy bag since those weeks before leaving, those weeks were i bloodied and bruised my knuckles. They didn't heal til long after i arrived at by that point there were too many things to notice old hurts. i haven't picked up a sword in far too long and every time i always must remind myself that things are not handled that way. but there's something so very organic about metal wrought in those forms- in some hands, it is natural. I suppose it is the feeling that I am finally doing something coupled with the frustration that it is not nearly so epic as i could hope. I didn't expect it to be. but the leaves are changing and fog covers the land and this strange little citadel is silent in the haze.
these past few weeks been focussed on so many things; i wonder if this comes about through this concentration, with this realisation of these things i need to see. Need to touch.
There is not much to complain of but never enough sleep. I am going through withdrawl.