james-luscombe.com

feeling the urge

    I'm feeling that itch to paint again and it's rather strong. I've been thinking alot about what painting is to me, or rather what I hope to accomplish with it, well, maybe both. Whatever the case, I am not really interested in realism, that much is certain. I think this is in part why I don't typically do underpaintings. I find that there is something lifeless about paintings that attempt to convey realism. They somehow seem unbearably flat and uninteresting. If I want realism, I'll snap a picture.
    What I'm after with paint is the essence of something, the rough, random beautiful ugliness that a camera can't capture. I'm after the abstract, emotional color of life laid down in globs and chunks and splatters. I don't care if areas of previous layers rise above the surface, covered in subsequent colors. In fact, I want them to. I want some part of the process of stumbling my way through a piece to be evident in the end result, like scars accumulated along the way.
    This I believe, is the honesty that I hope for in my painting. The raw, unabashed truth of how any particular piece comes to be, or how I worked through it. After all, I paint to express the things that I have no words to convey. I paint to explore the deepest parts of my self. I paint in order to know myself.

awareness

I am on a journey of self examination, in hopes of reaching awareness. To find the truth of who I am and make peace with myself. These are the goals of my quest, but the road is long and crooked. I lose my way often and repeat my steps, missing lessons along the way. At times I move in circles, building momentum until I fly off in another, random direction. I don't know where this road leads, only that I am on it and making my way, the best I can.

rainy sunday

I awoke this morning to the sound of rain and an overwhelming sense of lonliness. I stayed in bed, looking at the light pushing through the shades, trying to count the sound of raindrops hitting the window. My efforts proved unsuccessful as the patter of drops became too much. So I got out of bed, made myself something to eat and began trying to get things done. Make the bed, do some laundry, sort through bills, anything to get my mind in a different space. It hasn't worked.

Around and around, over and over, again and again, my mind keeps covering the same ground, never moving forward. My chest, tight, despite the hole in the center of it, a great, cavernous void. I wonder if this hole is my heart, or a place within my heart. Is it where my hope and longing reside? Is it the void created by some part of myself that I have lost? Or is it the mournful ache created by dreams unrealized? Perhaps it's all of these things, or none of them.

Whatever the case, it is part of me, which I cannot deny or avoid or pretend I do not feel. It is a piece of myself that has found refuge so deeply within me, that it has become the surface of today. So I will embrace it and go where it takes me. Like the rain falling outside, this hole in my chest is natural, part of being alive, part of being who I am. Perhaps tomorrow will bring the sun and this lonliness will disappear like puddles do under the warmth of sunlight. But today it's raining, and I'm stepping in the puddles as a make my way through it.

awakening

I am at a most peculiar place in my life at the moment, and am finding it amazingly difficult to navigate emotionally. While I know I am on the right track, the daily struggle to fully understand, recognize and accept this knowledge is overwhelming. I think in part because I am, by all measures, a creature of habit. Which is to say that, I'm finding it most difficult to push myself beyond the learned behaviors and mindsets that have been such a part of me until now.

For example, I have the hardest time making a decision and sticking with it. I can and have waffled on everything from what to have for breakfast, to major life decisions like, what to do about losing my job. The problem being that I perpetually second guess myself. Over the course of my life, I have become so adept at this, that I can literally convince myself of dozens of possible solutions to just about any situation. Of course, this doesn't help. Instead, it introduces dozens of new issues to second guess and create new possible solutions to. The whole process becoming it's own snowball effect.

I think it is from this, that I have grown into a mindset whereby, once I do make a decision, I jump on moving it forward and act very quickly. I haven't quite figured out if this is for fear of talking myself out of my decision(s), or simply a better way of dealing with things, that I occasionally am able to employ. The whole thing is rather confusing.

I guess what's important is knowing that I am finally on the right track. I have to remember to look for the positives in my situation and focus on those. I have finally returned to my painting and writing, after many years without them. The process of working creatively is affording me much needed time to contemplate things and reconnect with the parts of myself that I have felt I had lost. I am beginning to see things about myself that I had hidden from or denied for decades. I am finding the strength or courage or whatever the right word is, to be honest with myself.

Perhaps that is the hardest part of where I am, being honest with myself. To see myself for all of the things that I have never seen, or seen and avoided, is... well, it's hard. To recognize that I am as weak as I am, or as emotionally shut down as I am, takes more out of me than running a marathon. Each day I grow more exhausted, both emotionally and physically, just from trying to think my way through things and remain open and honest about what I am finding. It seems like this should be something that would come naturally, but for me, it's anything but.

Still, I am finding my way. I am asking myself hard questions and staying in the fight until I get an answer. I may not like or trust or believe the answer, but I stay in and keep fighting until it makes sense, until I feel I can trust it. So at this point, I have learned quite alot... at least for the short time that I have been trying. I know I have light years yet to travel, but the journey has finally begun. I have stepped onto the path of self discovery and am awakening. I think I just need to remember to trust that and believe in it.

The journey is going to be a long one. It will be difficult beyond description. The road I must travel will not change. But if I am honest with myself and don't lose hope, I just might by the time this is over. And that is hope in and of itself.

creative block

    Well, it's been almost three weeks since I last posted anything, and what a long and mostly disappointing three weeks it has been. I have been wanting to work on something, anything the entire time. But somehow have not been able to find the inspiration, energy or will to get myself there. Somehow, everything I want to be doing is getting lost to all of the other circumstances of my daily existence and leaving me feeling rather empty. So I have decided that as my first "real" attempt to rise above this current creative slump, I am going to sit here and write whatever comes out. Here it is, a paragraph or so about being without hope or inspiration. So far, it isn't helping... but it is a start. We shall see where tomorrow brings me.

a bit more on vultures...

    Again today, I saw a large vulture at the side of the road. This time he was waiting for traffic to pass, so that he could resume eating the remnants of squirrel that had made it as far as the yellow, dotted line. As I drove past, I felt an overwhelming urge to pull over and get out to photograph it. However, I quickly realized that I did not have a camera on me. I summarily cursed my luck and began thinking about vultures and their allure, at least for me.
    As I have said many times before, there is something about animal predation that really gets me ramped up. I love it! I love watching it, seeing the most basic and essential part of life on Earth being played out before me. I just do. I love it!
    Somehow, and don't ask me to explain how, it doesn't strike me as gross or disgusting at all. In fact, quite the contrary. There is something beautiful and life affirming to me about it. To see the rawest bits of nature doing what they do in the most unedited fashion is pretty cool.
    Not to mention, as a friend of mine has pointed out many times, most of the creatures that live on this planet are eaten alive. So why not watch it? It seems that by mere happenstance I was fortunate enough to land in the pool that generally escapes that fate. Good for me! I think that gives me ample cause to enjoy watching predation. Besides, it reminds me of how lucky I am that I probably won't have to experience being eaten and I think that's a good thing!
    However, I am often struck with the notion of wondering what it must be like to be one of the unfortunate. For example, what goes through the mind of the wildebeest as four lionesses climb on and start wearing it down for the kill? Or the salmon, pulled from the river by a hungry Grizzly? Or what about the small fish, swallowed whole and alive by the big fish? Seriously, think about it! One second you're swimming along, minding your own business and the next it's completely dark and you are being digested... alive!
    I don't care what anyone says, science or otherwise, there is something going through a mind in that situation. I refuse to believe that animals are mindless beasts that don't experience life in the same way that we do, at least not when it comes to being eaten alive. No way, no how. If something is gnawing away on your intestines while you watch, I promise you, you are thinking something!

perspective

I spent the evening with Benjamin, just hanging out together, going through the nightly routine. We had a jolly old time together, eating dinner, bath time, watching Rudolf and cuddling on the couch. During one commercial break, he turned himself completely around, wrapped his little arms around my neck and said, "I love you too, Daddy!" When we came upstairs to get him into bed, he asked me to rock him, so I did. As he was perched on my lap, we sang 'Have A Holly Jolly Christmas', over and over together, while he kept time by patting his hands on my cheeks. Once he finally landed in his bed, we sat and talked for a while. He told me of Santa's great escapades and his home at the North Pole. Stories of snowmen and monsters, coming to bite his house and with a grin from ear to ear, informed me that Santa was going to leave toys for him. The smile dimmed rather quickly when I explained that this only happens on Christmas and that Christmas is eight days away. The consolation prize was that he spelled his name from beginning to end and in classic spelling bee fashion, ended with a dazzling proclamation of "Benjamin!"

putting the title before the horse

Sometimes the title is the first thing that comes to mind and requires you to figure out how to explain it, but I don't think that this is one of those times. In fact, I would say that the foundation has been under construction for quite some time. Whatever the case, I am going to title this period of time, "The insurmountable woe of Jimmy Jay" and see what I do with that.

Actually, I think that it should be called, "The regrettable woe of Jimmy Jay". Yeah, that seems better.

holy cow! it's time for nanowrimo!

I cannot believe that it is the last day of October already! That means that tomorrow is the first day of nanowrimo! (Actually, the more I think about it, I don't think it could have come at a better time). Anyway, I have been wanting to try this for years and have somehow managed to either talk myself out of it, forget about it, or otherwise miss the boat every time... but not this time! I think that this is the year that I actually give it a try. I'm not going to say that I will be entirely successful, in fact, I would almost guarantee that there is little chance that I will complete the goal each day, or that I will even write each day, (I have to accept the limitations of the life I lead as well as my own limitations as a human being), but if I can commit to trying to write each day for a month, that's progress! For that matter, I think that any effort to push one's self to try anything new, to face down a new challenge or to explore beyond their comfort zone is an effort worthy of respect. I don't think that "completion" is always the measure or success. Whatever the case, I am going to give it a try and see where I get. Who knows? I might just roll into December with the next "Great American Novel"!

switching gears

A few days back I decided to switch gears again and start working with oils, painting the face of my self portrait. Admittedly, I have been a bit lax, in that I haven't been photographing and posting each day's progress. However, I have gone at it again tonight and below is a shot of the current state of this piece. Overall I am happy with what I have been doing, but I think it is time to step away from the easel for a couple of days to regain some perspective. I think that when I resume working, I will concentrate on finishing the drawing phase before I pick up another brush. Mainly because I feel that I am over working things and if I continue, I will do more harm than good, but also because I need to allow the work that I have done some time to dry. (Ahh, working in oils again... how I have missed them!)