They still have leaves on the trees in Arkansas. It was rainy and moody all weekend. The overcast sky mades the colors of the moss and leaves appear more saturated, more dramatic. Driving to my grandparents house, there were clouds resting on the hills of fall colors. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed seeing foliage, since the cold had brought the end of fall a few weeks ago in KC. In a way it feels like going back in time, in more ways than one.
Apparently the key to all inner turmoil is like… acceptance? The biggest conflict we face is within or whatever? That is so disappointing. I really thought that I could Top Five Ways to Not Always Be Stressed About Something my way into feeling like I could live with myself.
I’ve been weighed down lately, with dread and sadness and worry… the big three, if you will. A few nights ago I went to bed with a pit in my stomach so I wrote a talk-to-text note to myself for when I woke up in the morning. My hope was that if I woke up and the feeling was still there, this note could pep talk me out of it somehow.
we have a five minute stomach we’re not in the list that dragon staff did you notice that her throat feels tight nobody feels heavy and that the cash that we have for the week feel really hard right now and even though it’s OK you can do this it’s OK I mean anything the thoughts that we have about our experience right now are fiction because they’re anxious that theyre the hamster wheel they’re not a dinner or knowing
It didn’t have the desired effect but it did make me laugh. It’s pretty indicative of what my mind feels like when I’m anxious or desperate. So much grasping and so little punctuation. It’s also pretty beautiful — poetic somehow, the categorization of ‘dinner or knowing.’ If it’s not a dinner or knowing, I don’t want it.
I’m trying a thing called dreaming now. I decided today. It’s predictable being afraid.
I always say when people ask me why I don’t make representational paintings that if I already knew what they were going to look like at the beginning I would never start. Curiosity is what makes it feel authentic – a recording of my own discovery. But to be honest, I make paintings in my head all the time. Sometimes these visions help me get started. But other times, I don’t recognize myself in my own dream. That can’t be me, you’ve got the wrong guy.
It’s been very hard to be loved, hard in a way they don’t tell you about. Love shows you all the ways you have been asking for so much less from the world, the ways you have been broken by people, all the ways you don’t even love yourself. It stirs up pain and asks you to hold it long enough for love to heal it. It shows you all the pieces of you that need care; it’s a humbling and sobering experience. Of course it is also this huge gift, to feel held by the heart of another person. To see all their flaws and pain and feel like you just want to squeeze them tighter. How loving someone else teaches you how to love yourself better. How loving something or someone is actually loving yourself.
I can’t tell if I’m doing it all right. But right now, I don’t really care. My grown adult dog keeps chewing up things when I leave. Last night, she consumed an alarming amount of CBD treats. Thank you, Sis, for reminding me that I don’t control you. That I can control very little. That is important to remember.
Book I’m reading right now: Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmerer (again, over the phone to my girlfriend while she falls asleep)
Grieving with the community of Colorado Springs : Colorado Healing Fund
Song for today: Our House (demo) by Graham Nash & Joni Mitchell
Channeling this energy when I’m achieving my little goals this week: YES YES YES
that’s all for now
thanks for being here
—kat