I may have broken out of the old vicious cycle of perpetual restarts. Yesterday I had a small breakthrough in setting up the tiny studio. The energy flow was good. And even right before I got to bed there were small finds and clues to the next steps.
This means there will be less hurdles to just sitting down to make art. Less difficult and painful shifts between dayjob and studio work (keeping my fingers crossed on this). (Although the decreased dayjob pain is largely due to making very hard choices at the beginning of the year and sustaining that choice has been tough. In the long run, it paid off by opening more space and time for the art.)
The wash of released energies from long-trapped corners spilled over to other parts of the house so maybe there can be some improvements there too. Two paychecks coming in and they will tide me over nicely. But I need to have projects after them to sustain the momentum of enhancing the day-to-day.
For the last few days I have been feeling like the house has been fast becoming an old people’s house. Old bodies no longer able to keep up with the housekeeping, tightening grips on old possessions and old ways as the world outside hurtles by so much faster. A house for hiding and shutting in, with growing piles and bundles of unsorted things, furnitures and appliances on the latter half of their lives, dirt layering on poorly maintained surfaces. — I want to reverse this death process. If I had a bit more funds I can reverse this sooner rather than later. I am the only one left with the will,energy, perseverance, and patience to prevent a full downward spiral into that state of existence that is forgotten and dismissed by the world, a state of slow diminishing and decay.
My sister and I had a recent conversation about how someone had asked her why she has a constant to-buy list. I have it too. People generally could not comprehend how we are still in a lifestage of filling up the basics of a life. In essence people could not comprehend the life choices we have made, why we chose art and an odd kind of freedom over financial security. Why did we not prepare for the future? Why did we waste all that education, skill, and opportunity? Why are we taking so many foolish risks that could have been prevented and avoided if we had only gone the mainstream default template of a normal regular life? Sometimes I wish I did take that most travelled path.
I have no savings, no back-up plan. I live like my father has lived (and so far he has kept us all alive and relatively well as he turns 74 next month). I have no assurances of success as defined by common folks. I have no immediate prospects of a job or a life partner. I live day to day, in a manner many will describe as horrifyingly reckless. I am likely a disappointment to many who have known me through the years.
I’ll be turning a milestone age in six months. I have an urge to at least reach it with a bit of promise and a little to show for all the years I’ve jumped off the bridge instead of crossing it.
There are many things I wish I’d known ten years ago. But ten years ago I was a person who is not capable of understanding nor appreciating those things.
There are no shortcuts or instant solutions. Everything is a process. Everything is a journey. One step at a time. One day at a time.