Work Space - Before & After

Part of my problem is that when my family went through what it went through, I chose a coping mechanism that is no longer helping me cope and certainly isn't productive. I have really been trying to break through and overcome that, and I cannot stress enough that it's by God's grace and help. This is my story and He's an essential part of it, so I cannot shy away from that aspect. If you aren't a Christian and are reading this, just bear with me and maybe I can explain it. Many people believe in coincidences but I do not, I believe they are "God things" - something He sends your way to get your attention. It can be a gentle reminder OR a kick in the butt to get on the path you're supposed to be on. God sent me these messages variously and in other ways, but the three that apply to what I am thinking about today are my being introduced to The Artist's Way, Geninne's Art Blog and the TV show Clean House. These are tools and things that woke me up and got me moving when I was finally ready to change.

I have always been a bit messy. When I was going through situations with my family, my father's sad and unfair circumstances, the raging and erratic addiction(s) of other loved ones and all the pain and turmoil these circumstances caused, I was trying to cope and be strong on the outside. My messiness got out of control. On the inside I was hurting, and as best as I can see it from my own armchair psychological diagnosis, I let the interior of my home just grow with clutter and messiness that was sort of a manifestation of all the confusion and mess I felt about the situations that were hurting me. But I could always clean up my home, I could not clean up any of the messes that my family was in, those were beyond my control.


I still mopped, vacuumed and cleaned the kitchen and bathroom, generally kept house, but I let stacks of things pile up and overtake areas of my home. I also couldn't part with things, no matter how unsentimental, or unusable they were. I had a 'I might need it someday' mentality. You can imagine how I did not part with sentimental and personal things if I was holding on so strongly to the unsentimental things. I never refused anything people gave me, whether or not I liked it or could use it. It was one of my ways of avoiding things within myself, because I couldn't let myself take the time to do art or anything 'for me' if my house needed serious attention. There is a hierarchy of things that need tending to in my life. The house came after my family, and I don't need to tell you that there is always plenty to do to take care of family first. Then of course, we are in the ministry, so any type of ministry and doing good for others ought to come before anything I might want to pursue. My little mania and foolishness (as Neicy on Clean House calls it) became crystal clear when I moved here, and was on a steady (albeit slow) path of emerging from this stuff that was blocking me. I set up an art space in my room and repeatedly began to let thing pile up on and in front of it rather than use it. I was blocking myself.



I still struggle, I'm not going to say otherwise. I thank God I am not where I used to be, even though I am not exactly where I'd like to be. I'd like to be as productive as someone like, say Geninne (see above link) or my friend E. who is a working jewelry artist. I used to let my dissatisfaction over what I was not doing paralyze me from what positive steps, however small, I was actually taking. Now I celebrate the small victories and don't agonize over the setbacks in the same unproductive way. I still have a long way to go, but I want to show today how things are. Things are looking up.

That Old Thing

The Thing*, the sad thing, the semi-tragic thing, which cast a dark cloud over my family appeared on the horizon again recently. It's a dark cloud. So many years have passed now that I often see it as a simple shady puff of remembrance, that blows in now and then, and then blows off again. However, and variously through other loved-ones, it threatened to cast a grim shadow, and anchor itself down. I will not tolerate that, and I will fan it away.

I am thinking of this because I reconnected with an old family friend who also went through that same situation. This thing* affected both our families. The course of our lives and my family's trajectory was profoundly changed and altered in so many ways. I remind myself that not all of the changes are bad. Things were lost and things were gained. We all tried to make the best of it.

We were confused, hurt, utterly naive and ill-prepared for what happened to us. Our families' connection grew apart because of the circumstances, and decisions we made while in the midst of it. I suppose there have been suspicions over the years, I know my emotions and thoughts have followed various rabbit trails regarding the situation. I suppose it is common to consider that irrational notion that if our (relative's) paths never crossed none of this would had ever happened. That whole, 'I rue the day we met' kind of notion. Then there is the basic, human, self-preserving feeling that if those persons, places or things that remind us of the pain can be avoided so we'll be reminded less, avoid we shall. It's nothing personal it's just what our hearts need to do to survive at the time.

Anyway, all of that must fall away. Time has been served and the past should stay there in its rightful place. I don't want to nurse even the slightest negativity or lack of compassion toward those who were very similarly affected by The Thing*. Time does bring a resolve and an acceptance. I know the pain of the circumstances and what was lost: the dignity, the relationships, and many other things. So much hurt fell upon both our families. I have said it before and I will say it again, as a mantra to myself and a testimony to the only sure truth I have ever found, life hurts but God heals.

-------

So, I wrote that today. As I was looking for a Flickr Commons photo to illustrate (clouds) the entry, I thought to listen to Joni Mitchell's Both Sides Now, as I browsed, because of the clouds. I did not realize the outcome, and I find myself crying, ugly and bitterly because I am missing my father very much. I like Judy Collin's version of the song better.
Then, I thought of the Faulkner quote, "The past is never dead. It's not even past."
This thing is mostly past, I think.


Photo by eye of einstein.

Nature Boy, part 2 (Journal Entry)

I am working through feelings and issues that impact me and my family. Addiction, co-dependency and dysfunction used to put an undue burden on my life and my heart. Over time, and most importantly through faith in a real and living God, healthier ways of living and coping are being sought and implemented in my life. Journaling is one tool on the road to healing. It helps me process and understand things in a more productive way.



I was thinking more about this song and my wayward loved one. The song itself, has a sort of positive message: "The greatest thing you'll ever learn is to love and be loved in return." Yet, the overall impact of the song is somber (in my opinion). It feels sad. Beautiful, but sad, particularly in the Jazz versions of the tune.

My loved one seems to want love very badly but as best as I can tell, they look for that love in the wrong places and in the wrong way. This is my own limited knowledge and observation. I know that my loved one lies so much about so many things and inevitably the truth comes out sooner or later. Then the people who have been lied too act and react, and my loved one is further isolated. You cannot build relationships on lies. I know substance abuse is a factor. I suspect mental illness, because the lack of care toward others and the lies go beyond more typical addiction behaviour, if you will. Let me clarify, they are not lies to cover up and otherwise aid my loved one in getting high. Not ranting and babbling while under the influence. They are often grandiose lies that make my loved one look favorable, but often at the expense and hurt of others: slander.

Addiction, mental illness, what came first? Again, I'm not sure. If my loved one was not actively using alcohol and/or drugs, would the lies stop? In the past, and again it's difficult to tell, they have decreased somewhat but not stopped completely. Which has led to my suspicions of mental illness. Is my loved one capable of being truthful and having what I would call a "normal" relationship with people? And by that I mean any type of normal long-term relationship, be it friendships, romantic, etc., where there is give and take. A very strange and enchanted one, indeed, and lonely and prone to wander as well.

I hope my loved one will discover the truth of loving and being loved. We all have choices to make. My loved one can choose to stop lying and choose to be truthful. They can choose to let light in their life instead of darkness. They can choose to reach up for help. That help is available, only a prayer away, for God calls us out of darkness and into His glorious light (here, v. 9). They can choose to stop hurting their own self and others. I pray for that to happen soon.

art and life

Picasso's Woman With a Crow
journal entry from 6/24/07

It occurs to me I have lived in my own kind of prison, in one area of my life, for many years now and I’m ready to come out of it. The source of this trouble goes back to my last year of college. I was so stressed out, guilty and ashamed of myself the last year of college, over 15 years ago! My school work suffered as I agonized over my Mom and Dad’s situation, the stress of finances, working and keeping it all together. I felt guilty for being a “lousy artist.” I still feel sadness mingled with embarrassment when I recall a horrible memory of an evaluation talk with one of my instructors, figure drawing, as he criticized my work. I never told anybody - teachers or classmates- all of what was going on, with the exception my roommate. That was a rather large factor in my less-than-spectacular quality of work. I look back now and the biggest impression I have of that last year of school is STRESS and WORRY. Stress and worry about my parents and their legal and financial problems. Stress and worry about doing my school work, meeting deadlines and balancing that with working as much as possible to support myself and pay for it. We lived somewhat of a double life because my Mom did not want us to tell anyone what was happening with my Dad, and you can still see my reticence in this to spell it out exactly. I remember a time a few years later, when I became a stay-at-home-mom(SAHM) after having Adam how relieved I was not to have to get up and go to school or work and be so engulfed by the stress of all that. I still felt enormous guilt for not pursuing an art career or even doing any art on my own, for pleasure or passion. I think all of that was wound so tightly into the way I was dealing with my family problems. I’d associated art and art-school with such negative feelings because it was the goal I had to slog through when my heart wasn’t in it for worry over my parents; and the huge financial strain it was to keep it going. Then it was the strain of continuing to pay for it in the form of student loans after graduation. I was growing and changing as a person with new priorities: motherhood and Christian Faith. I was resentful and embarrassed that I could not afford it. I was still dealing with the blow to our family in the form of my Dad’s tragic circumstances. Having to be there for my Mom and him, and even bear some of the responsibility of helping them, and feeling at times guilty and resentful (and feeling guilty about feeling resentful!). Then there was the worry and concern over my brother’s problems with addiction at that time and the way that touched our family. I was privately torn with guilt and vacillating over mine and my husbands’s passion for me to be a SAHM and our assurance of it being the right thing for us to do as Christian parents, and the fact that I was not contributing to our finances though the loans and other bills were my debts. We had severe financial problems due to stupid mistakes we made, and some even from my parents’ situation. I can’t tell you what a heartache and despair my Dad’s situation caused. It was the dark cloud that hung over all of our lives, effecting us in various ways. I can’t even go into all of that here. When my Dad passed away in 2000, there was no more carrying that burden, and grief runs it’s course. It was a sad and unfair situation, but there is no more to be done about it… The victim of the cruel circumstances, my Dad was gone, and the situation that ruled our lives for so long, went with him. I suppose there was a returning to ‘normal’? Big Daddy & I finally paid off my student loans, and that was a relief. I no longer lived in the state of guilt and anxiety I once did. I am ready to be free and do art again. Lord, help me start.