Tags

, , , , , , , , , , , , ,

When I first began painting, it was because because I had too many feelings.  Writing just wasn’t helping anymore. Besides being just naturally too emotional,  my boyfriend of 6 years’ father had just died (I miss Roy every day), and I had a crazy crush on a girl.  The only thing I could do was buy some paints and canvas and paint it out.  And, oh man, did I paint it out.  I felt like I could paint anything.  I was so obsessed with these feelings that, instead of just glazing my feelings over (ie: i feel sad, I love this girl, i’m depressed) I dove deep into them. (what about her did I love? What tiny details did I remember about Roy?) For me, it was the best therapy.

I’ve been missing that in my life.  Sometimes, especially at work, we tend to just glaze over our lives.  We don’t take pleasure in the details.

[enter one of the best Reality Bites quotes EVER]

There’s no point to any of this. It’s all just a… a random lottery of meaningless tragedy and a series of near escapes. So I take pleasure in the details. You know… a Quarter-Pounder with cheese, those are good, the sky about ten minutes before it starts to rain, the moment where your laughter becomes a cackle… and I, I sit back and I smoke my Camel Straights and I ride my own melt.”

Oh Troy.  You were so badass and such ’90s grunge perfection.

I’ve been following the Occupy Together movement and I’m absolutely floored by the amount of passion that it’s sparking in people.  I’d actually felt pretty apathetic about it until I spoke with a coworker about it who just has a knack for getting me passionate about issues.  That’s what this is about.  Having feelings about what’s going on and letting them be known.

When I began painting, I was getting out this passion…this love for something.  And, come to think about it, every great painting that I’ve done has been great because it was made out of passion. 

Passion is so worth it.

How great.  I feel like I’m getting over my numb-jadedness.  I saw a picture of my Jedo today,  (Jedo is Serbian for grandpa)  and, suddenly, I remembered all of the wonderful things about my Jedo that I love.  Like: he has the biggest ears, he always smells like halls cough drops and the way we would laugh when he said “tree” instead of “three”.   And how he still tells me to “behave because I can’t strike you when I’m not around you.” When he’s never struck me.  And how, when my Bubi (serbian for Grandma) starts yelling at him, he quietly chuckles to himself and says “yes, hun.” My Jedo.  He’s art.

It’s just another step on the way to keeping my heart open and loving the things (peeps) around me.  One detail at a time.

This is what I’ll be spending my time on: noticing the wonderful details of the people I love. 

Stay amazing, lovelies. 

xx

LeeAnn

Advertisements