Writing and Drawing

Hello all! Sorry for my absence, I’ve been busy with things like Aurora and the Artseen Studio Tour.

I’m dismayed that after finishing the 29 Faces challenge I’ve completely fallen off the bandwagon. I hope to get back on it and today did a quick sketch of Nosferatu in the spirit of the season.

So very scary!
So very scary!

I did this at the Dallas Drink and Draw meet up tonight. Hopefully next weekend I make it out to the figure drawing session they have; I’ve been a lazy turd and haven’t been to one yet. It’s been years since I’ve draw figures from life and I fear how rusty I’ve become but look forward to doing it again.

This afternoon I was lucky enough to attend Women in Writing: a seminar focused on helping women find their voice through their writing. I had a wonderful time and am already eager for next month’s session. The theme today was “Roots,” to which I took a slightly abstract approach:

Grounding myself on elbows meeting the abrasive road where my six inch stilettos gave up, I am left with a red trophy that will mar my ribs for weeks. Inside I swirl around a mirror, myself, my hair let loose, my tears crawling as gravity desires and I shout the profanities from ex lovers’ mouths against the slick pool of glass. Another day ready for bed and dreams and bourbon as a pungent precursor to those delightful retreats.
Verdant life magnified by grey skies, storms without gusts and gales, no thunder because there is no lightning. My sad eyes, dull with sleeplessness and apathy sit sullen in a face riddled with emotions I hide from the very people who would comfort them.
“I am sad.”
“It’s okay.”
Keeping time with my heart, my breath, the rain on the roof; my mind knows remedies for everything save the crippling inertia it is mired in. I am so still in this void of myself, suspended in an abyss of marketing, political, religion fueled confusion.
“I am.”
“It’s okay.”
My bare skin hits and grinds on cement, keeps pace with my heart, my breath, the rain. A familiar burn in my lungs sends a smoke signal drifting slowly into the thin-aired heights of my misguided logic.
“I am okay.”
My hair falls weak and wet against my brow, my clothes mat with dense wetness, my senses exalt in a moment of being.
“I am.”
No fears. No confusion. Blood that travelled before thoughts and ire crowded my veins rushes in torrents as it did years ago to find a place of love, simple understandings, friendship with myself as my legs carry me, ever faithfully as they do, through wars, to peace.

While digesting this please keep in mind it’s been years since I’ve actually written anything more than a status update or blog post. Reading this in front of the seminar (all of 6 people, myself included) was harrowing! I am so shy sometimes it hurts. With quivering voice and shaking hands I delivered my tiny collection of words with minimal slips of my tongue. Maybe, hopefully, if I keep at it, I’ll become less afraid of being in front of people.


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