I am an Artist, Poet and Author. I am so much more than this: I feel like a tiny seed that sprouted in a desert, and now has grown into a Passion Vine. My Art is my Voice, Screaming, Crying, Praying, Loving, Laughing, Healing- all in Riotous Color…
“Sleep to Dream a Dreamer’s Sleep…Let the Midnight Watchman Creep…”A step into a past full of Victorian Charm, all furniture and walls handpainted and restored…by me.
your home is your place to dream, to find peace and rest. A cocoon, a safe haven, an island in the storm… a place to create, to define, to highlight who you really are-in your own space. Welcome to mine…
I always lived with others, my family, my husband, friends… I expressed my own style in little flourishes, here and there. Once I got my own home, that I truly own, and no one else shares it with me….now I’ve been free to create my own space. Painting anything, be it wall, floor, furniture or canvas; at any time of day, in any colors, in any style!! There are days I sit here, depressed and immobilized. Then I remember to look around and be so, so grateful…
Change has come round the bend again…My illness has spit me out of the Doubt Chamber, at least for a time. Yay. Woop Woop. The Bipolar illness, that is…the Excruciating Pain from my other illnesses is ongoing and unending. It is particularly intense today. So my enthusiasm for my self esteem and confidence in my artistic ability returning is a wee bit dampened. Wee bit. Dampened. Squished. (but NOT by the Brahmas, thankfully!)
(Deep intake of breath…deep sigh…) I have been attempting to post some new work and projects for a couple days, and also deeply considering the direction my site will take from now on. Many difficulties with my brain function and memory have plagued me, induced by the severe lack of sleep I experience. In the last 72 hours I have gotten less than 8 hours sleep, and those 8 not in succession. At about 3AM I went round putting knives and hammers away, in the event of my experiencing some kind or break with reality. (not kidding…) As a middle aged, fairly out of shape(!) woman who lives alone in a severely downtrodden area with windows that dont shut, I have tried to become more cautious. Hence the scattering of knives and hammers about the house.
A overly prideful attitude towards my ability as a fighter over my life, and having been into lifting and high-impact aerobics, has left me careless, I must admit. Too much intake of crime documentaries and murderer profiles has caused a big uptick in my worry factor- but I dont want to slip into exessive paranoia, which is easy to do with PTSD, and BPD. So I have been working on improving basic safety around and i my home, setting sensor lights properly and fixing entry points. Good girl Susie….Balance, seeking balance…
As far as my Blog Presence here and on other site, I will take the plunge back into sales of my artwork, being active in keeping up in my creating back stock, advertising it, proper shipping understanding and researching business ownership. one foot in front of the other.
Hopefully I will be back soon to post more positive content!
I’m feeling disgusted with myself. Yet again I have lapsed into the void. The Void that exists inside me, when I feel incapable of creating anything of value. My fellow artists, do you ever come to this vast zone of inability?
Many would tell me that it’s the Bipolar monkey, bouncing up and down on the seesaw of creativity that exists between my ears. Right now I want to “shock the monkey”…(thank you Peter Gabriel)…It seems to be less like a monkey and more like a huge Brahma that has lain down, groaning and farting, on all my art supplies. (warning:EXTREMELY GRAPHIC WORD PICTURE!!!)
The warning should have come before the farting bull. Sorry. NOT.
Oh, the wonderful bucolic images that now dance ’round my imagination. Huge farting cows in pink tu-tu’s daintily dancing hoof to hoof. Hey, maybe I’m onto something! I hear Brahms playing in the background while the Brahma’s cavort! Wait for it… Wait for it….There!!
There are ideas percolating just beneath the surface of my consciousness. They are not fully fleshed out but the juices are flowing and I feel “on the verge” of a breakout work. What is a ‘breakout work’ you ask? Well, I’m asking too, and I believe there is a new direction coming.
ideas under construction…
I have been cleaning and gardening and remodeling while the first flickers have steadily growing in size, ready to flame up when the fully formed idea strikes. So I’m just stoking the fire now, setting my mind free to dream in big color…
my garden calls me , more and more…and I’ve been gathering beloved and beautiful finds and setting them behind the house while this “thing” fleshes out. And it will.
Oh, the way we roll…up one wave, down the next ad infinitum… My balloon can be pricked so easily, it’s like the world and everyone on it are made out of pins. I get to the point where the remedy is sleep and sweets , not necessarily in that order. The wind has left me in the Doldrums, in a tropical heatwave.
I get cranky in the heat, and there is no respite, even in the house where the afternoon till 7pm Temps range from 84 to ninety, with the AC on full blast.
Woe is me, woe is me… I was so glad to have the job on the tea cart, really motivated and doing fine work (I thought so, anyway…)
Yesterday the Gentleman who gave me the commission showed up at my door with a little wagon to take it home, unfinished !!!! I told him I only had about 1/2 done, but he insisted “No, you’re done.”and hurried out with it with the words, “Oh, and here’s your money”.
Thats when the Little Dipper visited, and is doing it’s darndest to turn into a Bigger Dipper. I didn’t even sign it, because it was only 1/2 done! Ah, well. I’m going to refund 1/2 the money. It hurts my conscience to keep it….
Out of the Gutter Art 
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