I’m prone to bouts of anger, short tempered, the overly sensitive type. Writing is a way to make sense of it all. While art is a way in which I can escape the thoughts that haunt me shutting off conscious thought and allowing my hands to guide me.
For my birthday my daughters bought me a paint kit. Which was as much for them as for me. My husband and I are working on teaching them that a gift is for the person you buy it for not yourself. My youngest is still trying to understand the concept. Anyways I’ve been attempting to paint mostly with two kids. Which it gets quite messy and my painting skill is definitely at beginner level.
I started off drawing shapes to get my youngest daughter to name them off for me. In which she started smearing paint all over the paper and I just went with it.
Anyone else just sort of start painting and drawing without a thought in mind? For me when it comes to drawing/painting I use it as a way to not overthink. Of course there are times I try to draw specific things although I get frustrated and just need to be free and turn to just making something. Anything. Even if it’s not a great piece of art. Honestly though what is great art?
Thanks for reading. -Temperamentally Tina
(I am a participant in the Amazon Associates Program and any qualifying purchases made through affiliate links I may earn a commission on at no additional cost to you.) The paint set above is the one I got for my Birthday present.
I feel so damn frustrated and you don’t want to hear it you don’t want to feel it you don’t want to be in it because we can’t stop it we can’t help it we can’t control it only us and soon who knows where this place is headed will we own ourselves? Will the debt rip us from our zone demolishing our home and we’d be nothing more than bodies on the street hands above a fire trying to find warmth? There was safety in a moment bodies lived as they wanted and seconds later choices have become that of law and it’s confusion. what does that mean what choices do our children have can they choose love for themselves can they seek protection when needed are we all now property of the law?
Somedays I’m so fucking angry about what I can’t stop what I can’t help what I can’t control somedays I’m yelling trying to find control and there isn’t any I feel like a lifeless flake on a cold Winter Day hitting the mounds and mixing with the rest waiting on the sun waiting for the moment to melt evaporate and to start again.
I struggle with authority and social norms. I cannot smile when I don’t want and I find myself choking on the words and the frustration that lives within me. I find myself hiding it because speaking freely is something often celebrated unless you feel differently and then you stay quiet. I find myself pondering my beliefs seeing the holes within them I am pro-choice although I value life I just see the blurred lines and I know the complications it brings although I never have myself I’m not against abortion. In theory I have if you allow the restrictive to construct your views when it comes to contraceptives. I’m anti guns because humans and power it’s a dangerous thing a distance standing between you and a target I don’t agree. I have never shot a gun and have no intent to do so. I am not against gay marriage although I don’t celebrate it because I don’t celebrate heterosexuality either. I suppose you could say I’m for all marriage against all huge weddings. I don’t care for extravagant parties and unwarranted debt it’s pointless. I’m married although we aren’t owned by each other. I have no tether upon my finger because my personal is for me and trust is important. I do not partake in an open relationship it’s closed me and him but what others do that is their choice. Swingers shall swing and it harms not me. I believe personal choices are exactly that and not for me to determine for anyone but me. I wonder why it’s difficult for you to make the decisions only for you and not for them? Why is it so hard to keep your choices from dictating theirs?
When I was young I wanted to save the world cure all the ills aid the homeless and dissolve the pain of others and now I’m different I see it’s more complicated rooted back to times I’ve never seen I’ve only read of.
There has been change in small doses only we at heart are always the same stepping upon the bodies to find our place of right and now at my age I’ve accepted there is no right life there is no perfect solution because someone will always hurt equality is a fruit swallowed and spit out sour to the tastebuds because it’s not enough not for the minds rotted with greed they always need to eat the most spoonful of others and I no longer dream of being the savior simply I live within the faith I won’t be just one more soul damning the human race to extinction.
This human thing it feels wrong it feels like every thought is in conflict with another and I’m hunching over.
The words claw in clutching on and this human thing is becoming unbearable will the words claw so deep the thoughts taring open my skin exposing bone releasing a river of blood?
Every thought conflicts this human thing it’s difficult further I hunch as I think I tell myself to stand straight realign my spine but I cannot till every human is fine which is an impossibility because all our thoughts all our wants all our needs conflict turning this human thing into a feeling of wrong.
You exist that’s great I do as well so does that person oh and that person over there and all the other animals.
We’re really just an animal breathing eating trying to make sense of a universe that’s vast and the never ending makes us sick with frustration with curiosity that’s never filled.
Killing each other for money for a system that’s not infinite materials that’ll break not soon enough to cleanse the Earth it just fills and fills more reseeding it’s filth filling us with microplastics our blood isn’t what it was we’re all looking for superiority and I believe none of us are wealth is only an accumulation of things that can crumble and cluster our Earth.
Everything is money that’s why it’s all so similar the sounds repeated the stories changed in small doses the books on the big screen it’s because money is the thing money is the price for our creativity for our growth for our knowledge for our cures for cancer the price is money and it’s slowed us stopped us crept within our minds clawing itself in till we gave in and we write and create the memes that get the most likes we just want to be in a larger home with a smaller heart and less creative time we just want to be the ones with the most money the creatives we are nothing it’s those with the minds of business that makes the most that chooses what goes chooses what is seen and what meets with the best and I’d rather be just not be that because I’m an arrogant mess and poor is what I am.
I’m not ashamed I’m not proud I just exist because I have because I did because I am and I don’t need everything to say I’m the best I’m perfect I don’t need to be it any of that and I wonder why do you?
A thought is only a piece another thought appears together they mingle intertwining to create more as the the afterthought feeds upon the current evolving the thoughts trying to climb out of their hole wet and filled of blood creeping to the surface thoughts they transform but there is a part that tampers the heart beating it does sending an electrical current that corrupts the brain to rethink to slip back to repeat the past to repeat the hate that doesn’t belong within it.