I'm Pullin' On (Yeah)
I'm Movin' On (Oh Yes I Am)
I'm Pullin On
I'm Movin On In
- Aretha Franklin
Quiet weekend. I think I only left the house to take the garbage out.
I'm kind of at the point where, to use a favorite quote from David Letterman "it's finally happened. I'm finally beginning to annoy myself". I have to get going... things are falling apart and nobody cares for me but me. It's been like that always (God and family and friends aside, I mean) and maybe that's just my lot in life. Unlike before, during the War with SD where my heart was closed... I will venture to leave it open because it's better for the universe if I do. If I shut it all down again, then I succumb to the darkness, to the non-believers. The shit-talkers. Fuck them. All. I know that to love freely is better than withholding. I know that to be open to love is better than being closed. I don't like being hurt... and it's NOT a risk I'm willing to take. And so I have no qualms about being pickier about who I give chances to. People like Nene deserved it cuz they respected it. A lesson I should have carried with me... a standard I should uphold.
I talked to Poppy the other morning, and while I HATE that at 43 he's got to bail me out, he assured me he doesn't mind. Because he says he understands what I'm wrestling with... and essentially, it's wrestling with living an artist's life. Which is something I've been wrestling with a long time. Cuz I know there's stuff you've got to give up. And I don't mind giving it up, mostly. There's stuff I sorely miss, like shopping. (Like there's this pair of red stilletto boots... *sigh.*) But then on the other hand I had a closet full of crap I rarely wore. And I still have plenty of clothes left though I usually end up in jeans and sneakers. I would like to be able to go out more, or travel more places... but all of that I can do without so long as I can stay home with my kid for now. Not forever... but for now.
And I shouldn't have to feel guilty about that.
So I'll continue sewing batten pockets till I figure something else out. The student loan thing stresses the hell out of me, as does rent. But I'll figure something out.
Yesterday I had a conversation with SD who had texted me that he wanted me to call him. He wanted to talk about what happened between the Sun and I the other day, when I reached out and tapped him in the face. He wasn't questioning my judgement, he said, but he wasn't too crazy about the Sun getting hit in the face. He thought I should kick him in the ass instead.
The thing is, I told him, I RARELY, if ever, hit my kid, though I am not at all opposed to spanking. I DO think that other methods should always be tried before you resort to hitting, and I also think that by a certain age hitting gets to be a dangerous thing... and the Sun is ALMOST at that point. But the kid had been a pain for some weeks, and I had been warning him that he was crossing into dangerous water. And it was a bad day, AND the Moon was there and I didn't appreciate being mouthed off to in front of his friend. So I went to hit him, but he saw me coming and dodged so that by the time I actually reached him, most of the power had gone out of the slap. He was more incensed that I had actually done it; he didn't even complain about pain. And I told SD that the next day, when he started up again I had enough composure to just take away the Nintendo DS... and this time, he's not going to get it back quite so easily.
SD said he mainly didn't want the Sun to grow up flinching from a blow. Said his father had kicked him in the head "a few times" as a kid... and that he had unpleasant memories of his childhood. I knew, from several sources, that SD's father was a really abusive man, mostly to his daughters. But SD never talked much about what he did to him, other than one incident he told me about where his father kicked him in the head because he was too shy to speak up in Sunday School. And I realized again how very damaged SD is. My heart... the one that never gives up on love... realized again how much he struggles with his childhood and even though he can never overcome it, he loves his kid to distraction and doesn't WANT to harm him. And that's a good thing. It's his redeeming quality. It doesn't let him off the hook for any of the shit he put me through... but I don't mind being understanding. It's how I'm wired.
The Sun and I had a productive day today, even though we slept late. When I finally got up, he still hadn't eaten, saying he didn't want to eat cold cereal. So I showed him how to make cheesy scrambled eggs. I noticed he holds the spoon funny. I'll have to figure out how to show him an easier way... but in any event he protested at first, but got into it, and was proud of himself.
Then he got in the shower and we washed hair. His hair, when he tilts his head back, reaches the top of his butt. I think it's the longest it's ever been. And boy is it water-resistant, like a Labrador Retriever's coat.
After the hair, we did homework. His math... it's hard for me to correct him. I have to be careful cuz he's usually right. Then he had to go upstairs and interview UN for his school social studies project on immigration. He did a good job; got good answers from her.
I did some laundry and found a powerstrip so that I can plug in a lamp in my room. My room sucks light out of the atmosphere; no matter how many lights I have on in there it's always dark. Weirdest thing. I'm debating putting a TV in there... maybe I'd go to bed.
Finally about 3P, Bigbear and the Professor and MMB (who has pink streaks in her hair) came up. Bigbear (mostly) and I and some friends of Bigbear's from the Dine (Navajo) Nation will be exhibiting some of our work in a few weeks. Bigbear needed to cost out matting and framing, and I had to cost out and pick photos to show.
After they left, and after dinner, I sat down and did the little piece above. We do this fundraiser at the kids' school, Square One Art, where the kids do art and then the company scans it, sends back a magnet, and the kid takes orders from friends and family for other items with their work on it. This year, some of the teachers and parents wanted to do one... so I did one, too. I did it in about an hour and a half, and I can hear all of my illustration professors at Pratt yelling at me for technique and lighting and all that... but I think this is the first thing I've painted since I left Pratt. And I just needed to do it... and I did it... and the next one will be better.
But it was nice to paint how I was feeling today...