Jul 26, 2005 13:39
Do you ever feel that you have lost yourself?
The things that you found most wonderful about yourself?
i do.
I know much of this is something that has been turned over hundreds of times before but with all this time to think and the situations around I can't seem to keep myself from coming back to the issue - and I think, that if I continually return to it that there must be something there for me to find.
My cheezy-self-help-ish little internet community emails often emphasize, exaggerate and intensify various things that I'm contemplating. (that whole bit, the little comm, is still not quite what I expected but amid its own random oddness still suits it's purpose.) it also reminds me of what it was like to be small, or has me speculate on it rather.
Everyone I know holds dear the preivous life that was childhood.
I honestly don't remember much of it.
and most of what I recall is certainly not fond.
tid bits and snipits. here and there.
Mostly fabricated from memory shreds amplified by pictures, the few pictures there are.
I can't remember anything particularly wonderful about being a child. My earliest memory is when I was four, getting my hand caught in the mouth of the clown trash can at the fair.
I remember always looking forward to whatever vacation Dad had planned and having my bag packed for weeks ahead of time. I also remember wishing that my parents would get divorced so that I wouldn't have to see my 'mom' and then crying the first day at school when they were seperated not because they were seperated but because I had to stay with 'mom' instead of Dad. I remember 'mom' searching my bags everytime before I left to go with Dad and her taking notes of whatever I said, sometimes with a recorder, and trying to put words in my mouth. I remember being forced to see counselors that I didn't like, who would only smile smuggly and nod agreeingly as if I was mentally retarded or totally senile. I can not once recall my 'mom' playing with us but there are countless instances of my Dad doing things with us. Most definitely the rest of what was left out is nothing to long for, much less mention anymore.
I do however miss things that seem to have escaped em since I was a child.
Most notably my creativity.
some say that I am still and that I still have great talent but I know better.
I have mediocre skills and old ideas left and it disappoints me. I'm not sure if that fact itself or that I have no drive since the hate is gone from my life is more depressing.
either way it's a sad state to be in.
I certainly don't long for the past, but I do miss something that I used to have that was so mucha part of me.
I don't understand the longing for things past or yearning only for the future.
Yes, right now I desperately want a house. But I'm ready for it. Just like I'm ready to graduate and get a real job. I'm done with my current life in limbo - it has been wonderful but it is time to move on, take the next step.
I used to miss the fact that I didn't have a childhood after nine. Now I am just happy with where I am. I don't long to be a reckless child or have children. I just want to enjoy living with my friends and the ones that I love. I do miss that part of me, though, my creative free spirit.
It will manifest itself in a mild form here and again - like painting Sandi's livingroom. But when I go home and thumb through my thick portfolio I can't help but wonder what happened to the artist inside of me. I'm still inspired by the beauty of art - certainly the purchase of 2 very unique paintings and the joy at the art fairs proves that. (I can't wait to get those framed when I move into my first place.) I, of course, have to give Jesse thanks for pushing me to get them. I love being surrounded by the beauty of art. Original work gives off such amazing energy in the spaces it consumes. I'm very proud to own so many originals and know that I have this one-of-a-kind gorgeous piece of someone's imagination where they pushed their own boundries. it's invigorating and inspiring.
The same goes for great literature and even some blogs, peoples conversation in general can be so wonderfully enlightening and uplifting - I miss being able to share that with people.
....
As I think about all this I can certainly pin point pieces tah tI have made that are full of rage, saddness, disappointment. I'm not sure why I've kept them so long... maybe so that I woudn't forget what it was like so long ago. maybe to remind me to be cautious. some remind me of terrible mistakes that I regret with my soul to this day. I think that in my pack rat relief project I will get rid of those things, and a few others that I don't truly have a desire to keep. I think some of the things left over could be humg around the house with the rest of my work... I like walking into my house and seeing something wonderful that I did on the walls - framed.
Art is something that I'm a terrible hoard with. I was offered lots of money for a series that I did and I refused it because I decided that I wanted to keep it for myself. It doesn't bring me near as much joy as it did them -- it was cruel of me to deny someone something that inspired them.
Maybe this will be a year of framed art gifts. I know that I have some pieces that people love... I think that would be good. I know I have at least one piece that I need to finish, it is long overdue to that person. Perhaps I will accomplish that this evening amongst packing and making at the ready to leave....