on patience + pretending

this painting was listed on esty once.
even though i knew she wasn't ready.
even though i wasn't *in love*with her.
even though i didn't even like how i'd signed my name.



title: princess of pretend

yet i resisted holding on to the piece.
uninspired with the process or just distracted.
i went ahead and listed it.

she hung around a while but didn't sell.

perhaps she was a little boring for a princess of pretend.

i pulled the listing and decided to wait until she had more to say.


last week the muse called and i listened.

 

i think i've (finally) learned to always always always listen and wait. to be patient with my process which is very, very slow sometimes.

 

through my patience she developed {~pretend~} wings and now, she's almost ready to fly...

it's one of those nights...

...when i should have gone to bed.
...when i wonder why, when i feel morose, it feels like i'm always morose but when i'm happy, it doesn't ever concern me that i'm always happy.
...when i question the meaning of everything.
...when i am debating whether or not to make a pot of coffee. and once i type that out, the answer is always yes, yes i should.

can you say stress ball? that's what i am. a big, giganto ball of stress. on fire, even. i can't even begin to talk about the house situation because we're supposed to close in two weeks and have yet to find a renter. we're close but it's not done until we have a signed lease and deposit in hand. can you say stress? i could be doing something more productive and possibly even more healthy right now, like meditating. or sleeping. but sleep isn't all that refreshing since my attempt to night wean was a big failure. huge.

since my thoughts were racing a mile a minute as i lay in bed after a long, drawn out bedtime session complete with one kid climbing all over me and kicking me repeatedly, while the other kid tried to strike up multiple conversations and wouldn't be quiet until my husband came in the room and told him to take me seriously, i decided to share what basically boils down to this: no matter what, the very core of my being is and always has been and probably always will be lonely.