POO BUM AND BOLLOCKS

POO BUM AND BOLLOCKS

Poo Bum and Bollocks. BUm BUm BUm. Drats, shit shit shit shit. Sigh. Big Sigh. Fark. Bollocks. Poo poo POO poo. And repeat. 

Reach for cheese. 

And maybe let go just a few stray tears. Extra salty. 

Because in the last week I have had a few knocks. Nothing huge or major, but several disappointments, and a few personal moments that were not so great. 

1.I had spent hours and hours prepping and submitting for things that did not lead to anywhere. No success. Ouchy ouch, ego a little bruised. 

2.I went on conference training thingy that was awesome, powerful and amazing, but it was so powerful that it stripped back some of my toughened wizened old skin, and resulted in me having a big cry and feeling really emotionally raw. I made a bit of a boob out of myself, especially when I fumbled with the door like a completely discombobulated specimen in front of the other attendees in an attempt to flee before my tears and snot took over my face.  

3. Added to that my son, my first born, moved out of home. Then I had a confirmed diagnosis of some bad news with regards my health last week, and basically I am feeling a bit shit really. 

But then... I started thinking. Okay, maybe the submissions were not a success, but it made me get my CV together. And maybe I painted up some work I really like and I can use them for other things too. And I did it, you know, actually submitted, when 12 months ago there was no way I would have even tried. So not all bad.  

And the boob making me? Some more thoughts that maybe being so sensitive and open to feeling raw means that I have a chance to reflect on things and move forwards, learn something new about others and myself. And that the course was actually spot on. At least I will not be forgotten.  

And maybe my son moving out was always going to be bittersweet, and I will just need to embrace it. Lucky for me he is not too far away, and seems to be loving this new adventure. The health thing? It is mighty huge kick up my arse and a chance to really take action. It is up to me now. 

Yep, it's all up to me. Do I lay down and curl up in a heap? Do I watch Netflix all day and just dissolve into lardiness? I want to. Sort of. But then I know that really , short and long term  it will make me feel even shittier than I do now. 

So instead I have set up a couple of workshops for next month(links at the end of this post to buy tickets, you lovely person) I have emailed organisations about other possibilities, organised some more things for the Breadtag Project, watered my poor dry garden, done several loads of washing, tended to crappy emails and boring shit that need to be done, and am about to head to the studio do paint for play. And see what happens, while playing music LOUDLY. 

I can do this. I got this. I really do. And so do you my friend. We really really really do!  x

By the way, all the images on this post are of sketchbooks/journals I did last year for an awesome thing, The Sketchbook Project, in USA. I will be doing another soon! You can see them in full online here and here.

Workshop tickets are available 

HERE for Watercolour 

and 

HERE for Simple Drawing and Journalling.

They are on 16th March at The Japanese Gardens and Cultural Centre, Cowra.