Feed Me, Seymour!

Remember when we were little, and learning to ride a bike? We would pedal furiously, begging our mom or dad not to let go until we were ready. And then, we would fly! We were terrified of falling, but we pedaled anyway, and we flew. Fast forward *mumble-mumble* years, and what happened? We are so afraid of falling, we never take the bike out of the garage! I spent this past weekend at the Art League of Long Island’s Holiday Art Fair. I made lots of money, got approached by a woman who felt my work was ready for wholesale, and won an award of excellence. I pedaled. I flew. Fast forward a day or two. The money has all gone to pay overdue bills, I have yet to follow up on anything that came out of this weekend, and in the past 24 hours, I’ve eaten 2 doughnuts, a couple of slices of panettone, a giant linzer tart, 2 cupcakes, and 2 boxes of skinny cow ice cream bars.  There are 3 things in my closet that fit me, and I can’t zip up my winter coat. Ok, I could feign surprise and shock, but even you all recognize the pattern here. In fact, I’m pretty sure a couple of you are nodding off. Ok. Ok. What’s going on? Success? Eat. Stress? Eat. Happy? Eat. Sad? Eat. This might be a little harder than I thought. Eating is a distraction? True. From what? Does it silence the raging monkey chatter in my head? Certainly. But it also silences all of the others clamoring to be heard. The  ones that cheer me on. The soothing whispers, the non-judgemental voices that encourage me to work hard, nurture my passions, not to give up, or beat myself up. To have faith. What would happen if I just stopped sacrificing myself to feed the beast? Maybe it’s time to find out. What will happen if I send the monkeys packing? If I work hard, nurture my passions? Pedal furiously? I might fall, I probably will fall. But eventually? I will fly.

Fall or Fly


Day 7: Reboot-Reshmoot

Ok. This isn’t working for me. While expressing gratitude is a wonderful thing, doing it publicly because I am influenced by what others think is an easy fix and something I do a lot. My blog is about finding balance for myself. Between conviction and cranky. Between want to and have to. Between what I feel and how I deal. I am angry. I am pissed. I am furious. I am doing the best I can in a world I created. I’ve been blaming everyone and everything for my own choices. I am lucky. I had, I still have choices. Not everyone does. It’s easier to blame circumstances, life, the universe. I made choices. Rather, I sat back and let the choices be made for me. I waded around in the river and let life get caught on my arm, wrap around my ankle like seaweed. I made a choice a week ago influenced by others. $@#%^* that #%^**+@!!! (See swearing, day 4). Don’t get me wrong. I cannot sit back and let the rage run the rest of my life. But until I can figure out who or what I’m so angry at, I’m gonna throw a tantrum now and then, cuss like a sailor, write what I feel, laugh too loud, cry a little, love a lot, sing and dance a bit, and create pieces like this….

From the Freak Flag series


…when the world is telling me people will only buy this:

  Teeny-Tiny Heart Bracelet

And as for gratitude? The people I love who love me know how grateful I am for them, even when I am letting the freak flag fly. 

Day 6

The Rockettes. Seriously. It is almost impossible to be sad or cranky when your watching the Rockettes. The dancing, the singing, The 3-D glasses !

  It is in the words of my husband, spectacular! It accomplishes exactly what it sets out to do, make us smile from start to finish. And like all 7- year old girls everywhere, it makes you wanna be a Rockette. In a good way. Not in a “Boo-Hoo, why didn’t I ever realize my dream of being in a kick line?!”kinda way. I didn’t feel envy or regret for not being a Rockette. I felt happy. I oohed and aahed with the crowd. I took pleasure in watching my husband’s face light up. It was fun. And while I wasn’t looking, the monkeys in my head slept. And I took a breath.  
 The Rockettes in the Early Days