making room for all the things
I had a burst of creative energy in the past month, which is funny because I also had some crazy mental lows. So I started a shop on TeePublic and have some designs out for people to enjoy through print-on-demand items. I have yet to see if it would be worth getting a bulk of merchandise to sell. At the moment, I want to just enjoy that I am putting my art out there. Enjoy!
I woke up to my kid being the most adorable version of himself. He squeezed between me and my husband in our bed and said “I’ll be the tomato and lettuce, and you two are the bread.” We peppered each other with kisses and gave big bear hugs. This made getting out of bed pretty easy. I went downstairs to start my personal routine of taking meds, boiling water, grinding coffee, taking out my journal or checking email, or checking in with my friends via text.
Mornings when my kid has school I wake up an hour earlier to do all this. It’s my morning mental stretch. My time to sit in silence, think about how the day will go, check in with how I’m feeling, wait for the meds and coffee to do their thing for the executive function. And just breathe. And when I do not get that time, I really feel the squeeze. My day is thrown. Emotional dysregulation sets in. I find it impossible to concede to my kid’s need for attention. This uncontrollable stubbornness takes over and I JUST. WANT. MY. TIME. TO. MYSELF.
I recognize that this reaction is cold and selfish. Those are the exact same words that I use when the guilt sets in. Motherhood/parenthood really has been the most challenging of things to have happened to me. The co-regulation of emotions. The desire to raise a child that is not an a-hole, but a self-sufficient, confident, fun, kind, compassionate, and helpful human being – It’s a test I hadn’t prepped for, but holy f- I don’t think anyone could ever prepare enough for this. And somewhere between the feelings of elation and heartbreak, are all the other feelings of discouragement, anxiety, wonder, joy, sadness, anger, frustration, hilarity, and more. Because there really are not enough words to describe all of the feelings between the feelings.
The past week had a few days close to 60, which is not typical here in the Pacific Northwest. I don’t know if these flowers usually bud at this time, so wondered if the warm front that came through affected their timeline.
I looked up and saw Orion
Belt and sword
Outstretched arms
Grounded stance
floating in the heavens on Christmas Eve
I want to be Orion
Weightless and brilliant
On-the-ready
No one able to pull me down
But I am mortal and not Orion
Tethered and uncertain
Tripping and scraping
Serving food and drink on an empty stomach
We took a bite out of the holiday budget to get new Christmas stockings and bought these beautiful wool stockings from Eighth Generation.
Left to Right:
From Thunderbird Arrives Wool Blanket by Louie Gong (Nooksack)
From Cherokee Treasure Wool Blanket by Bryan Waytula (Cherokee)
From Walk in Beauty Wool Blanket by Ahsaki Lafrance-Chachere (Diné/Navajo and African American)
They’re very spacious, with room to hold more than a few goodies.
They are generously sized and spacious enough for more than a few goodies. However, given these most trying times, I do think this year the gifts we will be the most thankful for are our friends, family, community.
This past week I caught up on the latest available season of Bakeoff. So naturally I was inspired and decided to eat through random ingredients around the kitchen. This was a sweet potato (that I’ve had for a while) mashed with Mexican style sour cream, salami, and aged cheddar, and a pinch of salt and pepper.
This is my latest empty coffee mug vision. After landing on a color, I couldn’t help but see the moon. This started off looking straight down into the mug, but it looked too straight forward. The obscured edges reminded me of looking past the silhouette of a tree’s branches, or more plainly, a shallow depth of field. Then I thought about how I am never looking at the moon straight on. It’s high up in space. We’re always looking up at it. So I tilted the image to play with that part of my brain that lends itself to illusions; not that I think this is one. As for its title, it feels very on-the-nose. The act of howling can mean longing or calling. I imagine the release of near-bottomless sadness, unrelenting pain, or even unanswered prayers. As this year wraps up howling feels like an appropriate thing to do.
Winter is off to a bumpy start. Finding the energy to even FEEL like what I’m doing on the daily is okay is exhausting in and of itself. Whether that’s doom scrolling, only doing two loads of laundry a week, or only managing making one meal a week as opposed to heating up another pizza or eating cereal, I’m trying to give myself some damn grace. The symptoms from menopause and ADHD together come like rogue waves to a ship that’s trying to get to port. Only to realize there is no port.
I continue to play with my brain though. I’m noticing that I’m playing with color a lot. So here are a few things I did in the sandbox.
CRY: Cyan, Red, Yellow Study
by Marivic Pinedo
Sitting at a table with a notebook open and ready to listen. Mugs that held coffee sit empty, leaving behind shapes that turn into wonder. At their bottoms of I’d find patterns in the fine grinds that were left behind. I don’t remember when it started, but I started taking photos of these forms. If I get busy, I’ll set the mug aside, careful to make sure it doesn’t get thrown in the dishwasher.
These are recent images I was working on over the past few days. I have a few more images at my SmugMug account that are more straight forward.
fighting reality 