collage
scene from West Side Story (1961) + photo by Friedrich Seidenstücker (1934)
I woke up early the other morning feeling anxious. The words I have to quit drinking beer ran through my head.
But I like beer my brain whined.
Sigh.
I've hit a wall in my weight loss endeavor.
"You should just enjoy where you are," a friend told me the other day. Another told me it's normal to plateau and to keep persevering.
I am persevering. I have to, and there is at least one reason why.
You know how I gave up clothing shopping this year? It wasn't because I am a virtuous, un-materialistic person. No. I did it a) because I don't make enough money to buy much more than food and gas and b) as incentive to lose weight.
I decided I wouldn't buy clothing or shoes until I hit a certain weight, and once I hit it, I would have to buy new clothing because my current clothes wouldn't fit well anymore.
I was supposed to hit the goal at the end of May. That due date was moved to the end of June. The end of June has come and gone and I'm still three pounds away from the goal.
But three pounds! It's so close!
But if I don't lose these three pounds soon, I'm going to go crazy because I want, need, some pants that fit me well asap. But I worry. Will I be stuck on this plateau wearing baggy pants forever?!
So whereas I usually stress in the wee hours of the morning about more dire things, I am beginning to stress about my beer consumption. I can't lose this weight and keep the same "dietary" habits. And I have to exercise more than I am. I'm up to about three times a week now, but it has to be more, at least for a little while.
Because while my first real goal is three pounds away, the next goal is fifteen pounds further. Sigh (again).
In the midst of all this, I struggle with whether this is something to be putting so much energy toward. I've always wrestled with feeling good about myself in general. Even worse, when I think about how I should probably take better care of myself, I feel guilty not investing that energy in other people's lives who need it more. It's the type of thing I think a lot of women stress about. We always feel like we should be giving and not receiving. But if we completely neglect ourselves, how much will we be able to give? So there lies the pursuit of a life well-balanced. What does that even look like? I sure as h don't know!
I do know one thing, however. All this thinking makes me want an ice cold beverage.
But I like beer my brain whined.
Sigh.
I've hit a wall in my weight loss endeavor.
"You should just enjoy where you are," a friend told me the other day. Another told me it's normal to plateau and to keep persevering.
I am persevering. I have to, and there is at least one reason why.
You know how I gave up clothing shopping this year? It wasn't because I am a virtuous, un-materialistic person. No. I did it a) because I don't make enough money to buy much more than food and gas and b) as incentive to lose weight.
I decided I wouldn't buy clothing or shoes until I hit a certain weight, and once I hit it, I would have to buy new clothing because my current clothes wouldn't fit well anymore.
I was supposed to hit the goal at the end of May. That due date was moved to the end of June. The end of June has come and gone and I'm still three pounds away from the goal.
But three pounds! It's so close!
But if I don't lose these three pounds soon, I'm going to go crazy because I want, need, some pants that fit me well asap. But I worry. Will I be stuck on this plateau wearing baggy pants forever?!
So whereas I usually stress in the wee hours of the morning about more dire things, I am beginning to stress about my beer consumption. I can't lose this weight and keep the same "dietary" habits. And I have to exercise more than I am. I'm up to about three times a week now, but it has to be more, at least for a little while.
Because while my first real goal is three pounds away, the next goal is fifteen pounds further. Sigh (again).
In the midst of all this, I struggle with whether this is something to be putting so much energy toward. I've always wrestled with feeling good about myself in general. Even worse, when I think about how I should probably take better care of myself, I feel guilty not investing that energy in other people's lives who need it more. It's the type of thing I think a lot of women stress about. We always feel like we should be giving and not receiving. But if we completely neglect ourselves, how much will we be able to give? So there lies the pursuit of a life well-balanced. What does that even look like? I sure as h don't know!
I do know one thing, however. All this thinking makes me want an ice cold beverage.
I wanna shut down the club
with you.
with you.
 |
| Inspiration |
 |
| Outcome |
acrylic and colored pencil on black paper
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| photo from YWCA website |
If I could write poetry, I'd write a poem about my love affair with swimming.
Fleshy figure exposé
I go to the downtown YWCA, a beautiful old building.
The perfect ending to any day
The pool is in the basement.
White tiled pool, ceiling, and walls
It's beautiful.
The crystal clear aqua beckons. It calls.
I'm usually the only one there, except for the lifeguard. It used to be a little awkward.
Easing in, warmth outside and out.
I'm not great, but I'm getting better.
Makes me want to cheer, makes me want to shout.
I awkwardly try to sync my body movements and breathing.
The closest I'll ever feel to flying.
My thoughts are healthy.
And the furthest I'll feel from dying.
My heart at rest.
That's kind of extreme
but you know what I mean.
I've asked friends to donate their used and unwanted magazines to me. I have a mountain to look through and it feels like Christmas.
I've been collecting images from magazines for a while, and now I'm sifting through them to see if I can make something of them.
Something I want to do more in my studio is quick drawings and paintings to loosen my mind and hand. When I paint on larger canvases, it's easy for me to tighten up and forget the intrinsic energy of painting.
Some of these drawing will be terrible, but that's part of the fun. Hopefully as I share them, it will be entertaining at the very least.
Above is the first stop on this journey, based on a photograph in Vogue. I was drawn to the image initially because, while the woman's outfit is minimalistic, there are lots of sheens and textures to the fabrics. The intermingling of simplicity and complexity, if you will- a juxtaposition for which I have an affinity.
The cream paper is 11x15" and I used black textile paint, colored pencil, charcoal, and acrylic. I'll be using a lot of leftover paint from other paintings for these and inexpensive surfaces I have lying around or find.
If you're reading this and have some magazines or materials you'd like to share, bring them to my studio (or I can pick them up). We can make some drawings together or I can make one for y-o-u.
I knew he wrote a song called Beth/Rest.
I listened to the album, but didn't hear it the first few times. Does that happen to you?
Then it hit me. Damn, that last song is good.
Weeks later, I realized the title of it.
Though often agonizing, a slow processing brain has its benefits.
Joy seeps gradually into my life; I'm constantly surprised.
And everything strikes me when it's meant to.
This song is mine, in all it's cheesiness, sincerity, and glory.
I couldn't tell you what he's saying
but that makes sense.
I listened to the album, but didn't hear it the first few times. Does that happen to you?
Then it hit me. Damn, that last song is good.
Weeks later, I realized the title of it.
Though often agonizing, a slow processing brain has its benefits.
Joy seeps gradually into my life; I'm constantly surprised.
And everything strikes me when it's meant to.
This song is mine, in all it's cheesiness, sincerity, and glory.
I couldn't tell you what he's saying
but that makes sense.