Yesterday I tried something different. I bought art supplies and set up on the side walk by the shops and just started to paint. I wasn’t sure what image I had in mind, I was just doing what felt right with myself.
I began with a washed out pink that reminded me of those really cheap tinted moisturizers that never match your skin. Just a couple of long sweeps down the canvas that were then layered with tiny bright yellow dots. I looked down at the array of colours on the ground before me and carefully selected my next shade. Red, bright red. Circles and sweeps at the top that reminded me of angry but lovely things. A bunch of roses, the splash of red wine or the shock of the first droplet of blood on a white sheet. The sight gave me a small smile and I couldn’t help but feel a little relieved. I seemed to relate to the shade, the passion, anger, the interchangeable bright and dark of the colour that struggled to be one emotion.
Purple came next. I squeezed large amounts onto the canvas and used large strokes to carry the colour down the canvas. It melted into dark blue and grey and the piece began to take shape with the top streaming into the bottom. Many people were walking by. Some people stopped, others didn’t. One girl called out how good it looked as a joke, as if I didn’t know it looked crazy. I smiled all the same and thanked her.
“Its getting there.” One man said to me. I gave a noise of derision and let out a loud bark of laughter. For there was no doubt that it was getting somewhere.
The same man came around to see my random painting three times throughout that afternoon to see how it was progressing. He was convinced that I could take it to a shop and someone would buy it – I however was not as it looked like a trainwreck of an artwork. It was if he could tell that this was somehow linked to my emotions and he repeated every time when he came over that ‘you can’t let it beat you’, you’ve got to beat it.
So, this post is dedicated to him for being a kind soul and to a close friend of mine who stayed with me on the phone when she couldn’t be there in person. I appreciate you so much.
_________________________________________________________________The next part of this post is to taking it slow. Breathing in between and working out a routine. My thoughts have been going a hundred miles an hour in a manic period and its time to review, even out and look after myself for me. If anyone wants to come on that journey with me for themselves feel free x
It’s going to entail surfing, running, eating three meals a day regularly and much, much more. Here’s to the beginning of March.