Blogging can be absolutely exhausting. There are times I have to stop and take a breath, come up for air so to speak. You spend so much time documenting that you forget to enjoy the moment cause you are always thinking about content and what would captivate a reader.
As much as it would cool to have an uber successful blog (and ahem, get paid for it), I can’t hide behind the veil. There are a few blogs I read quite avidly and there are times where I find myself getting highly annoyed because everything is just so picturesque and perfect. The staged shots, the outfits, the everything is awesome and cool when you’re part of the team. I understand that for a few people it has become their job, I of all people get that you need to rake in some cheddar. But goddamn bloglandia! After a while that shit is so damn fake.
Don’t you go through some blogs and hope to see a glimmer of realness under the facade? The post where they admit to having a craptacular day, a shimmer of vulnerability. One day I want you to come out and say, “You know what? FUCK THIS, and YOU”. I want you to admit you broke out with zits, you got in a fight with one of your friends over something totally stupid, how your partner broke your heart, how everything isn’t staged, perfect and followed around by a photographer. Exhausting.
One of my favorite food bloggers wrote a rare post about how she basically looked at the photos of an ex on Facebook and how it made her feel. To this day, it is my favorite post… not the food, the perfect donut photos… it was her humanity that struck me the most. And nowadays, it happens less and less.
I guess that is why my posts have become few and far between. Because I want to be real. I want you to see/read this and when you meet me in person and think, “Yeah, she is exactly the same as the blog person”.
In any event, in an effort of realness I am going to admit something: I am all over the place right now. Since getting back from San Diego I was counting down the days to get my shit together. With Reza back in school I was all ready to get back to the routine, the gym, everything. Or so I thought. It’s amazing what 2 weeks out of your routine will do to you and damn if I’m not paying for it. I have some odd abdominal pains going on and the doctor says my gut is seriously out of whack. The paranoid person in me is thinking all kinds of awful shit like tumors, masses and bursting appendixes (appendi? Is there a plural for appendix? heh) and needless to say I am stressed the hell out. Health stuff terrifies me. Pair that with getting weighed after a vacation? Fuck me if I will ever do that again. Depressing and not recommended. When my body isn’t doing what I want it to do, the rest goes out the door. Which brings me to my current state of affairs.
I have a slew of creative ideas in my head right now. So so so many…. So many and the push to execute them is on a delay. I am envious of some artists who seem to have a constant flow where they are churning out stuff like a manufacturing plant. My season is nearing… Halloween, Dia De Los Muertos, things I could be making for the shop for xmas purchases. It is knocking like a screen door in a tornado and somehow I am not answering.
They say your surroundings are a reflection of your current state of mind. If this is the case I am a hot mess of things with potential to become something more. AKA My Workspace. So in an effort of reality, I am going to show you what my workspace has been like… not some staged, perfectly stacked Tetris like geometry of things. The messy reality.
My reality is that lack of space has me working next to the litter box. Fancy artist stuff right here people! Glamorous artist life! Nothing like being in the middle of artistic genius (LOL!) and Gomez rolls in and drops the nastiest of deuces. And the bed? That’s Nena’s former bed which I still can’t bring myself to get rid of. I know this sounds morbid but it gives me a sense of comfort and I like to keep it there in case her little canine specter decides to pay us a visit.
Here’s a small tour of my clutter…
Clockwise sort of: storage box full of crap to go through, sketchbook, pens + brushes, sculpted friends for that shadow box I need to finish, art supply coupons (cause that shit is expensive yo!), an old photo of Josh and I that came in the mail from his Mom, paints, tape, glues, x-acto blades. I have three kinds of adhesives on my desk at the moment. Is that really necessary?
Then there is this. Recently I moved the scanner/printer off my desk for space. It was replaced by a desk hog. I don’t mind, I like having a desk buddy but sometimes it is hard to work with cause she likes to walk across at the most inappropriate of times. The feline eye of Sauron in my face. Here she can be seen guarding my newest acquisitions for my snail mail “problem”. That blank spot of desk there? It actually had the camera I was shooting these with so it was the only thing that got moved.
And then there’s me. I just got up, haven’t brushed my hair that really needs to be washed, omg like #NOMAKEUP, in my PJs and no, I am not wearing a bra. Home is where the bra isn’t after all.
And I won’t even get into the mountain of laundry that needs to be folded. Mountain.
My mind frame is a state of unfinished business. I don’t like it and now that I have documented this state of disarray, I have decided that today I am going to finish something. One thing. Then I am going to make myself a check list of pending shit so I can start knocking it out. I have to start somewhere, right?
3, 2, 1…