the tools for the job (briefly public)
Picked up a 64 count box of crayons on the way home from long overdue PAP.
May have actually clicked with provider for that. Not sure where to go from there, but that's separate.
But holy hell were crayons so much easier to deal with.
So this was my first attempt, in fine point sharpie, to draw where I tend to put my tent:
It wasn't "oh I can't do art" before. It was absolutely the same as how at Unity Fusion Weekender there was the Sunday class and we were using the same music over and over and learning to hear different things and I was leading and what I wanted to do was lead pivots in time with a certain thing in a certain phrase and I simply didn't have the skill (tools) to do so.
That frustration turned to 11 with the fine point sharpies vs the crayons.
I was VERY frustrated:
Today with Crayons I could do something quickly I was reasonably happy with.
Not that we did all that much going forward with all of this, but the prior post gave me a lot to chew on about what I do and do not have access to and what might or might not be standard for others and how, no, I don't have access to memories of taste, smell, touch, and especially not emotions. Certainly not in terms of feeling them again as in the moment.
I suspect, actually, that's why auditory memory of Dad and Mom is so strong and painful.
There was also some realization that perhaps part of why I dwell in the pain and the guilt is not having access to particularly many good memories.
Memory for me requires prompting, collaboration. If someone is gone and I don't have anybody I share relationships with let alone experiences, I don't have the access.
And the fact that I haven't been writing my life for a big bunch of years... that may be good or that may be bad. I was trying to get a sound file to upload to Drive and then it would but I couldn't find it; I found an lj post I'd saved as html from one of my many times banging my head against the lack of PT in the place Mom was, early on. I'd never have remembered any of these particulars without reading that.
And there's a whole lot more that brought up, but maybe not for this post.
I'd spent some time on a really difficult moment with mom. Upsetting at the time, but upsetting now, because of added perspective and hating how i could have been kinder. A1 asked me about things of her I see in me. And the mood lifts and it's a completely different headspace. I may not be able to call up experiences I know we shared, but I can talk about the things in her I see in me. And the things I wish I had. I see what you did, there.
This entry was originally posted at https://vvalkyri.dreamwidth.org/1770201.html. You can add to the
comments there using OpenID, or here is okay too.
May have actually clicked with provider for that. Not sure where to go from there, but that's separate.
But holy hell were crayons so much easier to deal with.
So this was my first attempt, in fine point sharpie, to draw where I tend to put my tent:
It wasn't "oh I can't do art" before. It was absolutely the same as how at Unity Fusion Weekender there was the Sunday class and we were using the same music over and over and learning to hear different things and I was leading and what I wanted to do was lead pivots in time with a certain thing in a certain phrase and I simply didn't have the skill (tools) to do so.
That frustration turned to 11 with the fine point sharpies vs the crayons.
I was VERY frustrated:
Today with Crayons I could do something quickly I was reasonably happy with.
Not that we did all that much going forward with all of this, but the prior post gave me a lot to chew on about what I do and do not have access to and what might or might not be standard for others and how, no, I don't have access to memories of taste, smell, touch, and especially not emotions. Certainly not in terms of feeling them again as in the moment.
I suspect, actually, that's why auditory memory of Dad and Mom is so strong and painful.
There was also some realization that perhaps part of why I dwell in the pain and the guilt is not having access to particularly many good memories.
Memory for me requires prompting, collaboration. If someone is gone and I don't have anybody I share relationships with let alone experiences, I don't have the access.
And the fact that I haven't been writing my life for a big bunch of years... that may be good or that may be bad. I was trying to get a sound file to upload to Drive and then it would but I couldn't find it; I found an lj post I'd saved as html from one of my many times banging my head against the lack of PT in the place Mom was, early on. I'd never have remembered any of these particulars without reading that.
And there's a whole lot more that brought up, but maybe not for this post.
I'd spent some time on a really difficult moment with mom. Upsetting at the time, but upsetting now, because of added perspective and hating how i could have been kinder. A1 asked me about things of her I see in me. And the mood lifts and it's a completely different headspace. I may not be able to call up experiences I know we shared, but I can talk about the things in her I see in me. And the things I wish I had. I see what you did, there.
This entry was originally posted at https://vvalkyri.dreamwidth.org/1770201.html. You can add to the
comments there using OpenID, or here is okay too.