I started a new painting today. I am making a reproduction of a painting of my grandmother who passed away in January. So, I worked on John Igo Branch Library and the new painting this morning.
I went downtown to the Central Branch yesterday and I have to say, things didn’t look too promising for my exhibit in April. The library is going through major renovations and I was unable to even walk through most of the first floor. So I left my information with someone at the information desk and will follow up with an email later.
I was pretty disappointed, but I have another option. I will be exhibiting some work in April at San Antonio College as well, so I can hang my library paintings at their library instead if things don’t work out. Not all will be lost.
Last Friday I sent a query letter to a literary agent and although I have made the mental commitment to send more letters over the years, I never seem to keep up with it. I finished my first manuscript in December 2019 and would still like to get it published. No one will know about it if I’m just sitting on it. So, more letters will be going out over the next few months.
Last night was pretty entertaining on Twitter. I’m not into ugly politics but it was funny seeing how irate Trump was about getting raided (searched?) by the FBI. I was disappointed to see conservatives further demonizing an American institution and calling for supporters to take action, but I guess that’s their shtick these days. So many people went to mar o lago with their pickups and flags to tell the FBI… what? Were they going to start a riot with them or something? Again?
It’s hard to know what most of America is thinking and feeling these days. Most of the people on Twitter are the same voices who do nothing but post on Twitter, who post whatever will get them attention. I don’t really (usually) care what they have to say. I follow a lot of reporters, but other than tweeting about the raid, they didn’t have much to say last night. But Twitter doesn’t let me scroll through nothing. It finds posts it thinks I’ll like, or it shows me all the posts the reporters I follow ‘liked’.
The news feels unreliable. Even PBS Newshours, which is less dramatic and less opinionated than CNN and MSNBC, is still catering to a particular audience. And since I’m not a student in school or an employee at a large company I don’t have a lot of social interactions. There’s so much noise out there, so much outrage. Are most Americans that angry?
I have to admit that I got out of bed last night to write in my journal for a while because I was angry. I was too triggered by everything I saw online to fall asleep. I have been mediating at 7pm and then reading from 8 to 9. But last night I felt like scrolling at about 8:30. Bad idea. A lesson I thought I’d already learned many times. Ugh.
What I realized through journaling is that I want to give. I listened to Ten Percent Happier this morning while I worked and, ironically, the episode was about morality and ethics. The guy being interviewed wrote a book called How To Be Perfect. They talked about making ethical decisions, like do I return the grocery cart to the store, or do I leave it in the parking lot for someone else to deal with? While they were talking, the person being interviewed said that the basic human desire is to give. When a child has a cookie and another child is crying because they don’t, in most cultures the child with the cookie will share.
That’s the conclusion I came to last night. I have spent so much time in my life trying to convince the world that I’m good. I have been desperate to be seen as good, smart, capable, right, etc, all because somewhere along the way I decided that I wasn’t enough. Was it something that happened in early childhood? Some experience that left me feeling ashamed and inadequate? Was it the way I was brought up? I don’t have an answer for that, but I do know that when I look back on my life I see a woman who’s bragged, boasted, and bullshitted. A lot.
But I’ve done it with good intentions. I have been trying to impress, and thus make others happy with me. Like when you’re a kid and you get in trouble you turn around and try to convince your parent that you’re good so they won’t be angry anymore. You try to make up for whatever it was you did wrong so that there can be peace again. I have been trying to prove myself, but I haven’t been giving unconditionally.
My ‘giving’ has had strings attached. I have been looking for affirmation. But, under that behavior is a true desire to just give. To simply give. To give freely. To give because it’s the most natural thing I can come up with. It’s the most natural motivation I can find. I want to express myself, or express something that comes from within me. When I ask myself what I want, ‘what do I want to do with my life?’, that’s the answer I get.
Last night I sat there with pen in hand thinking about my newest novel. I was thinking of all the inspiring ideas that have been circulating through my head. I’m angry, but honestly, I’m afraid. I’m afraid of how things are changing. I’m afraid of other people’s anger. I can’t control the environment, I can only contribute to it. So my art is my contribution. In uncertain times, I want to give, and the best way for me to do that is through creativity.