Tag Archives for moods

Gratitude and Creativity: Drawing Myself Out Of Heaviness

I’ve been writing about such heavy feelings and topics lately that I felt the need to lighten things up. It helps that the sun has lit up the otherwise overcast winter skies for a few minutes each afternoon this week and that I got some unexpected rest while meditating yesterday morning – I fell into a deep sleep for about an hour with my face planted in a pile of pillows. Not getting sleep tends to fry my brain and has a dampening effect on my moods. Even though I try to sound and act cheerful, the weight of fatigue drags me down like an iron anchor. I have to work hard not to succumb to the tug of depression, which only adds layers to my fatigue.

To counteract the heaviness I’ve been researching different art forms to figure out which one suits me best and what I might be able to achieve on a larger scale if I teach myself how to draw and paint. I’ve encountered some interesting artists. One artist whose gallery and website I really enjoyed exploring is Sandrine Pelissier. She’s a mixed media artist who creates beautiful paintings using acrylic paint, watercolor, dry pastels, graphite, oil sticks, and vibrant inks on paper, yupo paper, and canvas. She incorporates things like string, plaster, and paper to create interesting textures. She even incorporates life drawings and Zentangle patterns into her work. I’m considering taking one of her online classes to add some structure to my learning.

In the meantime, I started a small project. I’m making Zentangle tiles using a single tangle pattern (monotangle). It’s intended in part to make me practice drawing the patterns and steady my hands that tend to shake when I draw, while helping me to relax because I don’t meditate as much as I should. This is becoming a helpful practice because I realized that once I draw the patterns in my Zentangle notebook I may add the ones I like to something I draw in my art/gratitude journal, but the others never get drawn again. I also need to practice shading the patterns, which isn’t something I do in my notebook, and I’m not terribly good at right now. To make the project more challenging, instead of drawing random strings (guide lines) on each tile, I’m using the strings from the Tangle Patterns web site. There are currently 196 strings and tangles beyond that number in existence, so I should be busy for a while.

 

Don McLean – Vincent (Starry Starry Night)

 

Gratitude and Creativity: Sometimes I Forget

Sometimes I forget how blessed I am because my body is always feeling pain. However, I was reminded of my blessings yesterday when my cousin brought her three children to see me because I was hurting too much to go to her home to visit for a few days. I was so thrilled to see the children, especially the new baby who I watched come into the world thirteen days ago. The two older children burst into my home with so much life energy when I opened the door that they almost knocked me off my feet. They were so happy to see me it filled my heart. They greeted me with hugs, huge smiles, and the bright sounds of honest childhood laughter that hides nothing, as they asked me in turns to help them unzip jackets and remove shoes.

The new baby was napping in his carrier seat under soft, warm blankets. He was quiet and unmoving; until his mother gave me the go ahead to disturb his peace, and I took him out of his cozy corner of the world. When I picked him up he wiggled in my arms like a worm – he might have gained the misfortune of me using the word ‘worm’ as an endearment toward him for the rest of his life. He finally settled in my arms, almost weightless – he weighs just seven pounds now – and slid back into sleep as I held him against my chest. I had him in my arms or laying in my lap for most of the afternoon, with the only exception being when he woke up in search of his mother’s breast. It was a wonderful feeling.

I occupied the older children with a jumbo box of crayons, paper, and a children’s television channel that made their mother cringe. I’ve never been a parent so I don’t mind a few hours of children’s shows full of mindless rhyming songs and lessons on counting and primary colours. They were also easy to please with snacks that were thankfully lacking in sugar – bowls full of Cheerios™, sliced vegetables, and orange juice. What I couldn’t provide, they filled in with their imaginations. When they went home, my place was loudly quiet and still, but I felt full. I felt happy.

Today, I’m still feeling wisps of that happiness. But as I sat down to write, I realized I haven’t written anything in my art/gratitude journal in a few weeks. Instead of writing a new entry, I decided to flip through the pages of things I wrote about being grateful for in recent months. On the bottom of the page from my second entry back in April, I wrote a poem. That’s what I’m grateful for today. Not that specific poem; I’m grateful that I started writing again. Whether here or in that journal, writing is making my life with chronic pain a little easier to bear and helping me to make room for other things, happy things, in my life.

Still, sometimes I forget. What I’m hoping is that in the future I work at having more days like today where I look for ways to hold on to the joy and happiness that my cousin’s children brought to life in me yesterday.

Line To My Life

 

Gratitude and Creativity: Truth and Thought

It absolutely sucks when you think you’re having a good day and then out of nowhere you start to cry. Since becoming ill, that happens to me more often than I like to admit. Yesterday was one of those days. I was happily moving through my day when the tears started coming. I’m not sure what triggered them, but if I had to guess, I would say it was my pain. When I woke up yesterday I was feeling what I consider good from a pain perspective, but as the day continued, my pain got worse. Usually that wouldn’t make me cry, but yesterday it felt like there was no one I could tell about my feelings. That caused me to feel overwhelming sadness.

Even though my friends and family are always checking in with me to see how I’m doing, I don’t always feel I can tell them about the extent of my moods – or my pain. I tend to save most of the low feelings and troubling thoughts for my therapist, because I sometimes think that it’s easier not to have everyone worried about me all the time. As much as I appreciate it, I don’t find it comforting to have people constantly concerned about me. I don’t like answering the same questions repeatedly and feeling the need to reassure everyone that I’m doing just fine, especially when I’m not. The moment I tell someone about a bad day, whether my pain or my mood is the cause, they go into “what can I do to make it better” mode; when there is nothing they can do to make it better.

A prime example is me bursting into tears and not being able to explain why. If I told anyone about that, the worry would be immediate and I would feel bad about being the reason for that worry. The interesting thing is I know that if things were reversed, I would try to do whatever I could to make things better for someone I cared for.

Thankfully, I was able to express what I was feeling in poetry because of a timely silent share post, from my friend Bert, that I read yesterday morning.

 

Truth and Thought