Illness, death and injury can be seen as HUGE diversions from the things we should be doing. I challenge that and suggest that perhaps being of service when our family, friends and community needs us does more good than harm. Service feeds the soul.
I have just come off a week-long gloom binge. I wasn’t feeling well at all. My work wasn’t satisfying, my home life irritated me, exercise was an unattainable motivation and food…well…if it wasn’t made from sugar or high levels of sodium, I wasn’t interested.
As a sensitive and moody artist who is prone to anxiety and depression, it can be hard at times to pull myself from the depths of my own head. Once I’m there, the darkness can wrap around me like a blanket which, oddly enough, can feel rather comforting. Instead of craving things that would improve the situation, I hunker down, binge on television, cry in the shower, eat ice cream for dinner and procrastinate doing anything that could possibly be good for me. It affects my productivity in EVERYTHING.
Last week, while in the midst of a down-swing, I continued working on a painting and although I worked on it every day, I didn’t make much progress. That is kind of indicative of how my mood affects my day-to-day. When I’m in a negative head space, everything seems to take longer and my actions don’t seem as productive as I know they can be. It’s like everything is done in vain which depresses me even more…OH THE DRAMA OF IT ALL!
It seemed like every "big" change I made to this painting made no difference at all.
On Friday, after my 12th biscotti, 7th grilled cheese sandwich and 4th failed attempt to get to the gym, I had to do something. I chose to take the same attitude towards my day-to-day that I take when I’m stuck on a painting. JUST DO ANYTHING. Seriously. The more different, the better.
I decided to approve my teenage daughter’s proposed 8-person sleepover. I know what you’re thinking: “WTF?! You’re fighting the doldrums by inviting a slew of crazed teenagers over?!” Yes, that’s exactly what I did. To justify this decision to my melancholia, I told myself that I would now have the weekend to finish cracking out on crappy food, as that is what the human teenager consumes at a sleepover.
What I was hoping is that all of these fresh faced, energetic, silly-as-hell children running around my house would totally obliterate the misery problem at hand. You try being stuck in a funk on a Saturday night when girls are being dragged across the floor laughing hysterically, sporadic dance parties are popping up on your front lawn and THIS is standing in your kitchen:
The point is that it got me out of my spin cycle. I woke up in my van Sunday morning (yes, I gave up the comfort of my house to the juveniles for the night) and joyfully cooked pancakes and scrambled eggs for a mess of youngsters. I found it amusing (instead of frustrating) when an iphone was found under one of our cars, when I realized that two entire jars of pickles were eaten by one 90-pound girl (ew) and when I was repeatedly asked for something to eat while I was in the middle of cooking a meal.
That afternoon, I got outside for the first time in a week and gardened (another one of those activities that is so hard for me to start, yet feels so good when finished). Monday, I woke up and rocked that painting, continuing on in a completely different direction from where I started. I had been painting in a pretty dark pallet so I took a light blue and painted over about 85% of my painting.
When in doubt, just do anything.
After a brief panic attack, (and another biscotti) I took the canvas outside and started sanding the paint down. Layers of texture and color slowly emerged through the light blue, creating a dreamy, twisted, complicated junglescape. Out emerged something I never could have planned or imagined and it was beautiful.
When I needed a break from that, I got on my bike and hauled ass on the bike path for about an hour. In that time, I was able to release most of the remaining dark cloud that I had been dragging around. It was really hard to pay attention to the blahs when I chose to engage with the outdoors for a minute. It’s Spring, Moody Artist! For Pete’s sake, go outside and play!
Today is Tuesday and I still feel my bad mood hiding out and waiting for an opening to creep back in. But instead of engaging with it, I’ve decided to write about the ridiculousness of it all. After lunch, I will incorporate some darks back into this painting and then I’m going mountain biking.
Detail of the painting after working a dark blue back in. Sometimes you just have to keep doing the opposite thing until you land where it all comes together.
The only constant mood is the changing one
We all go through ups and downs. If I’ve learned anything in my 40 years being human, it’s that there is no such thing as an endless good or bad mood. They are all temporary and part of a much bigger picture. It’s where we choose to focus that’s important. I’m always amazed when a once huge problem doesn’t seem quite so big when I don’t stop and stare at it. I mean, it’s Spring in Southern Oregon…I’d much rather stop and stare at the wild flowers.
Sometimes, it seems such an easier choice to curl up on the sofa and continue on with the pity party but right now I have to take the 180 degree turn that will get the spark back into my eyes and the motivation back into my hands. If I choose to remain stuck in my mood, that’s all I’ll be…stuck. Just like with my painting, I have to take action and I can’t wait to think of the “perfect” solution. Just shake it up! Throw caution to the wind, paint onto the canvas, and when in doubt, and if it’s available to you, laugh with a bunch of goofy kids (I hear puppies work too).
It's impossible to be stuck in the doldrums when there are goofy selfies to be taken with adorable 4-year-olds.
When you feel stagnation set in, what do you do to get unstuck? Let me know in the comments below. Goodness knows I need all the strategies that I can get!
Painting at top is Blue Music, 36x36, Paper, Acrylic and Watercolor Crayon on Canvas
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I am in my studio diligently working on my very first commission. This piece has come easily, flowing through me with no blockages. It is an amazing feeling. While I’m in my “zen spot”, I find myself thinking about…my ex. Not what you were expecting, I’m sure, but my functioning dysfunctional family is the reason why I’m here. This happens to me often when the piece I’m working on just falls into place. My brain goes to my family and the first thing I feel is gratitude.
Me and Goody on One of Our Surfing Adventures November 2016
I have been married to the same wonderful man for almost 10 years, together for 12. He is my rock; my grounding rod. He absorbs all of my crazy. Whenever I float into the ethers, he brings me back down to earth but never tries to strip me of my uniqueness.
Nora and her Dad, Murf Reeves at Kagyu Sukha Choling I have a 15-year-old from a previous relationship. She is a storm of adolescent uncertainty with the solid soul of an 80-year-old woman. Her father is one of my best friends and although he lives in another state, we all spend as much time together as we can. When I tell people that we do things like vacation together, I receive looks of disbelief. “You go places to intentionally spend time with your ex?” Yes…yes I do. So does my husband and my daughter is a better person for it. We are family.
Mom and Dad (aka Joe Pecot and Chris Wiltz) They are the BEST
I have parents who this year celebrated their 40th wedding anniversary. They have supported me when I wanted to go to art school, when I wanted to drop out of art school, when I went back for a business degree and afterwards when I decided to become a yoga teacher only to become a stock broker 2 years later. They have been steadfast in their love and support for me when I had a baby out of wed lock, when that relationship didn’t work out, when I fell in love and wanted to get married. They embraced a move to Oregon from New Orleans to be closer to us. They believe in my art.
Me and Pumpkin (aka Rebecca Norwood) at The Getty in October 2016
I have amazing friends, one in particular who has been by my side since I was 3 years old. 3!!! Even when I thought we were choosing different directions in life, she never let me stray far. She has been loyal to me even when I haven’t been a very good friend. She knows who I am and says things like: “Well, Marigny, you have always done things your own way. Why should this be any different?” Spoken without judgement…it just is and she loves me for it.
All of them have helped me through my emotional dysfunction: a pretty bad drinking problem accompanied by depression and a general dissatisfaction with life. They are still here cheering me on, loudly. They want me to be happy.
Then there is the work. My art. I have never enjoyed any of the careers that I have tried on. All I ever wanted to be is an artist but I didn’t think that was something that people could actually grow up and be so I practiced not being an artist until I forgot that I actually was one. Now, as I lay pigment down and I feel the vibrancy of the color, I also feel the vibrancy of my life. It’s a beautiful thing. Even as I was just interrupted from this writing to scrub out vomit from a heart shaped trash bin (my poor kiddo has the flu), I can’t help laughing. Yeah, we were supposed to go skiing today but instead I’m cleaning up sick…and that’s ok. It’s all good. Life. Is. Good.
So this holiday season, I am grateful. For my non-traditional family. To be comfortable calling myself an artist. For heart-shaped trash cans (at least it wasn’t all over the floor). To be here on earth doing it all. Happy Holidays everyone. May your dysfunction bring you insight into growth, beauty and acceptance. Amen, Hallelujah and all that jazz.
Photo at top is my first commission completed. Big Top 12x12 Mixed Media on Board
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