#14 Art Talk & Venting

Hello Again,

You know, I was just looking at my walls and thinking about my art, since I was just writing down ideas for my painting, and I had a realization. I have my paintings all over my walls, like an art gallery. I've been dreaming about having my art in a gallery for a while now, but too scared to do anything about it. But at least I have my own little art gallery here in my room, a display of most of my works, all together in one place. That's something.

I need to start signing my art again too, I always forget to and then I end up with a bunch that need signed and I sign like ten in one go lol.

Oops, I'm ranting again.

I've been listening to rain and fireplace background noise and different kinds of ambience music and it's actually very peaceful. I used to think it was boring but now I think it's nice to have to listen to while playing on my phone or painting and it helps me sleep.

I'm in hibernation mode I think. I just wanna be comfy and relax and not worry about a single thing.

For a while I had been wanting to have a painting like the Mona Lisa where, like Da Vinci did, I would work on the same painting for years on end (he worked on his for 16) until it eventually is complete, if ever. And I believe this painting will be that for me. I want to put the time and effort into this painting, I want to pour every crazy, wild idea I can think of into this painting. I want it to shock and awe and calm you when you look at it. I'm just getting started and I'm very excited. It's nice to feel excited about the future. I feel more excited about the future than I ever have in my entire life. I finally have hope that things might keep working out, cause they've started getting better. My life is improving and it's really nice but it makes my heart ache a little too because I wish I could tell my thirteen year old self that the years of grief, anger, tears, loneliness, self-loathing, and nightmares will feel distant from her current life just before she turns twenty-three . . . maybe that would feel like too long to wait. It was worth it, though.

For a long time I hated that I didn't know the end date. I didn't know how long the pain of grief would last or how long the sadness would stick around for. I wanted to know when it would be over, when I would be okay,  and I hated that such an idea felt impossible. I hated the thought that it might never end. I thought if I knew when it would be over it would be easier to hold on until then.

Now I know that for me in that specific situation it was five years until the physical pain in my gut that grief gave me went away and it's taken more than nine years for me to reach a place in my life overall where I feel like I'm doing good and I'm excited about my future.

But I'm tired, so bye for now. I hope you're well.💛