When to Use a Paddle

I am a child of the modern world; when I have a question - any question - I ask Google. "How do I export a file to Final Cut?" "How long do mashed potatoes last unrefrigerated?" "How do I figure out what I love to do?" For some of these questions, Google has helpful things to tell me. For others, not so much.

I was in a meeting a few days ago, helping to curate a local talent showcase. We were discussing our mission statement, and what each of us thought the event could "do" for the city and ourselves. When one of my co-panelists said he intended the event as an exploration, to find out why people make things, my mind started to wander. I was struck by a familiar dull ache - the urge to do something creative, the longing to express myself with something magical, the awareness of how far away I was from actually doing so.

Curating and planning this (vaguely described) talent showcase has given me a lot. I've gained a small sense of purpose (devoting myself to something I believe in), learned how to work with a group as an adult (not half-heartedly like I did in school), and seen that I have something to offer (not to mention met a group of wonderful people). I'm so grateful to have the opportunity. But I'm involved in this event, and then I also work at a large-scale contemporary art gallery and film theatre. Essentially, I spend most of my waking life as a facilitator. I serve as the glue to bring creative things to people, without actually making creative things myself.

For a lot of people, this is not only "enough," it is "great." Great enough to build a life around. And objectively, you can call it whatever you want. I'm much closer to doing what I want in my professional life than I've ever been before. I've also been vigorously studying the concept of acceptance, and trying to practice taking life as it is, rather than fighting it. But I keep getting this niggling feeling that I'm taking the easy route - that I'm meant to do something more, and I'm avoiding it to avoid my anxieties and my existential angst.

So here's what I'm trying to figure out: how does one know when to "accept" the way the stream is carrying you, and when to use a paddle?

I don't have an answer for this yet. I'm fairly sure I'll never get a satisfying one. As much as I value the input of other people, I am increasingly realizing that sometimes you have to just decide things for yourself. When I'm about to die, I'm not going to say to myself, "I'm so glad I never made people angry!!!" or "I'm so glad I got so many people to approve of my life choices, even though I don't particularly care for them!!!" or "I'm so glad my mom never worried about me for any reason!!!" (Love you, Mom.) I've seen people tie themselves into pretzels (myself included) trying to escape a certain feeling or truth or life circumstance rather than dealing with it - either by fighting it in a way it can't be fought, or by "accepting" it by detaching, drinking a lot, and telling all your friends you "don't really care" about it, "no, really," and then getting into a fistfight. (Okay no, I've never done that last one but you get the point.)

What I really know is that I need to start a regular meditation practice, so I'm more aware of why I'm doing things and why I want things. I've been a little wimp about actually scheduling said meditation, so maybe airing this in public will help.

Sketchbook!

One whole sketchbook and eight months since my last sketchbook post, I give you: two Lisbeth Salanders, one to-do list, one Janelle Monae, and one dragon girl. 

These aren't the only drawings I've done, but they're the ones I'm still somewhat satisfied with/think are interesting. I've been painting a little, drawing a little, reading Fables, learning about audio recording, and watching Breaking Bad. That's all, thanks for stopping by!

Depression's an asshole

Hey, so the title of this post is "Depression's an asshole." Because it is. Shit's getting out of hand. I've been fairly depressed all year (realizing for the first time in your life you have no idea what you want to do can trigger that, apparently) but up until recently I could stave off feeling horrible with social interaction. Lately, though, that's stopped working. I'll go out and have a good time at first, but slowly my chest will start to feel tight and heavy, and I will stop having the energy or desire to say anything, and by the end it's difficult to even smile at anyone, let alone participate in a conversation. "Nothing makes us feel more alive than watching someone die." The reverse is also true. Nothing makes you feel more incompetent and miserable than other people happily talking about their accomplishments and endeavors (when you're depressed, and not accomplishing anything.) Then of course you feel guilty about this.

The other night I went out with friends and stayed a single hour before I left, feeling suffocated, to walk the twenty minutes home, then go for a run. Outside. In the snow. At midnight. I haven't "gone for a run" since maybe... June? But walking home I knew it's exactly what I ought to do, and sure enough, I felt fantastic. I didn't even feel cold -- it was strange.

I read something important the other day -- something I used to know and believe, and had since forgotten. I read that sadness is necessary, and important. I've been sad for so long, it's ceased to feel like anything other than A Problem to rid myself of. But I forgot: sadness shows us that what we had mattered to us.

Remembering this has helped me to be less afraid of my feelings, and less critical. When I feel sad or inadequate or "not myself" I get the overwhelming urge to curl up in a cave until it passes. I don't usually reach out to people or even admit that I'm feeling low. It might be a pride thing, and a dislike of being vulnerable, and a wish to be seen by everyone as "someone who doesn't need your help." Deep down I want to be that person you go to when you're feeling down, but I don't ever want to be on the other end.

But I'm trying to break myself of it, because apparently it's okay. So this is me talking about what's actually going on, and I might want to get coffee with some of you, and I might ask you to listen to me vent a bit. For now, this is an update on what's going on. I'm kind of wondering what I'm going to do with this blog if I do start wanting to put art on it again....