Friday, January 22, 2010

Wall


Sometimes, I hit a wall;

When I leave home for a week or more, the middle of the trip is always rough. I hit my wall and want to be home, safe, hidden from the world;

When I'm writing, sometimes I can't figure out how to get to point B from point A and I think it's all shit and I can't write worth a damn and wonder why I bother;

When I'm trying to deal with the Evil Genius, who can be relentless in his pursuit of attention to the point of ignoring repeated requests to give me five minutes to do this one thing (usually try to finish a sentence or put away some dishes or work on some art project or another) and I think I must be the worst mother ever because he ought to come first, oughtn't he?;

When I am looking at the photographs I so carefully cropped, mounted, matted, and so carefully placed at the gallery, or the photographs I made into cards, mounting them on unique, textured papers and sealing them into protective bags, and they sit ignored and I begin to convince myself it's because I am not, after all, an artist but rather a no-talent hack;

When bills come in faster than I can pay them and people are counting on me and I can't fucking breathe and I can't turn around without running into something else I've failed to do;

When I look in the mirror and all I see are dull eyes, dull skin, a dull mind, extra chins, extra belly, extra ass and I can't remember ever feeling young or lively and certainly never sexy or even remotely desirable;

When I'm trying to capture the wisp of a song, always just out of reach, always a little off, never quite right, elusive, maddening, and I know my voice can't do it, that I don't have what I need, what it takes, that I'm not good enough, never was, never will be;

When I inventory my life and realize that I do nothing, make nothing, provide nothing of any value to anyone, that I live by the grace of others and not by my own effort or ability, that I cannot even earn my own keep;

When I know I am in the middle of the mire and it doesn't matter because I'm useless and it's pointless and there's just nothing, nothing, nothing I can do about it;

I hit it hard.

It's unforgiving, as is its wont; it's a wall, they're like that.

I hit it again and again, sometimes day after day, sometimes minute after minute, battering myself against it in a continual exercise in futility.

Why bother?

Damn wall...always there, waiting for me to get up and fling myself at it one more time...and I never learn, because I DO get up and hurtle towards it one more time. One. More. Time.

Sigh.

I don't have an ending for this one...I'm still thwacking myself against this stupid wall.

5 comments:

  1. Humanity.
    Mozart felt this way. Beethoven, too [whose name, pronounced w/ en accent francaise, translates to "dick in the wind"].
    Warhal. Kerri. Ma.
    Starhawk.
    Every one of us, successful in our own right, hits it, love.
    Even those successful by all societal standards...

    Welcome to humanity. Sorry-- that will nae help ye through the moment. But...
    You know I'm right. Least, you will in retrospect.
    I get it, Woman Flower. We all do.
    And? Most of us comprehend, too...

    Slainte, Lady Flower.

    i love you, Kydd-o.

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  2. I could wax poetic about how talented and beautiful I think you are, but I don't know if it would matter since I'm your Mum. I've been there and still hit every now and then so know that you aren't alone and there are a lot of people who LOVE you as you are. It's the inside that counts. Love you, love you, love you.....

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  3. Yes, you hit a wall now and then. But the impression you leave on the ground when you bounce off is indelible and beautiful. I think you'd be the first to say that commercial/material success is not what you crave. And those of us who read your beautiful descriptions of art, nature, life, love and food can't help but know you're a true artist with an amazing gift.

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  4. Thank you, Lady Susan! And amen to whatever gods lift you. I think that's one of the most beautiful pieses of imagery I've ever read-- "the impression you leave... as you bounce off the ground..."

    Goddesses incarnate, the both of you.

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  5. :::sniff:::

    I hear you all, and am truly thankful to be blessed with the love and friendship I have in this life.

    The bad days are still good days, because I'm alive...so I win.

    Today is a better day, and tomorrow will improve on today, and evetually I will find myself lifted back to level ground again...and life goes on.

    Cheers, y'all!!

    ReplyDelete

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