waiting

This drawing is waiting for colors while I wait for Saturday.

Just two more frogs. Two more work things that need to be done and then I can begin a much-needed long work break. That means two weeks of no day-job work in any form. That means time to take care of my moving places and time to write and time to make art.

Work has been causing me pain. The fatigue stings and pumps venom into my spirit.

My tolerance for doing things that I must for the sake of paying bills has been at an all time low. I don't drag myself out of bed in the morning but I do drag myself to sit in front of the work computer and do the same old thing. Because it is the same old thing. The only difference is that I have bargained off money for time. Yet even time is stolen from me when the work had to be done because my heart is focused on something else.

That is why I need this long break. Too much of the past few months have been about making ends meet and paying bills and working too hard and not having enough in the end to treat myself. When I write or make art I don't need to treat myself even if both are actually hard work in themselves. But when I do day-job work I need to treat myself or else I might go mad in both senses of the word.

I cannot make it to this year's Book Fair but I will go to the Cut-Price Book Sale in one of my favorite bookstores. I have squirreled away a bit of cash so I can buy some books. I was saving it for a turntable but I can't think of letting go of the money without a cringe. The cash outlay is still a bit steep for me and in my case, the music can wait (a little bit more) while the books can't.

This is what I have in mind:

from Satchmi

There has been too much waiting lately. Too much.

The solution is not to wait. Of course that is what I need to do. I must not rush or be impatient. Easier said than done.

Just do what I can each day. Be happy for all the little boxes ticked off at the end of the day, even if not all the boxes get ticked off.

a sunday of substance

Yesterday was a great day.

I have been excited for yesterday since I set that meeting with my bookseller friend. I have not seen him for a while and the books I have ordered have been languishing in his inventory for months. I was at the tail-end of a project and a fieldwork and thought I deserved a reward of some kind for being still alive. What better way than finally getting my old orders and paying up and maybe adding a couple new books to the package?

My friend sells good quality second-hand books which I absolutely love. Pre-owned books carrying a history of their own. Yellowed pages, old editions, rare hard-bounds. And that lovely old-book smell. He also sells notebooks – Moleskine and Field Notes and Fashionary. Yes, a dangerous combination for a writer/artist like me.

So I set up a meeting and I was fired up all week looking forward to it.

Layer on the discovery that Before Midnight opened in cinemas in July 10. Marvelous! The theme movie of my generation! If I had to name a mythology of romance for my generation it would be that trilogy. So I set Sunday afternoon for watching it with my sister, while also setting a couple of evenings beforehand to watch the first two movies.

Sunday arrived and I was like a child about to go on a field trip to Disneyland. Well I was. My own kind of Disneyland.

I met my bookseller friend in a cafe. He was late and I was too early. Which was perfect because I intended to get some writing done. I haven't written in a cafe for a long time, and it was such a glorious sunny morning, the cafe was half-empty, and there was this vintage jazzy music playing in the background. The other customers were quiet oldish people, not the usual crowd of noisy young things. Needless to say I felt right at home.

I took out my last Moleskine notebook (I have run out of stock) to write. I just have to say, I caught myself smiling many times at the sheer joy of the moment. In the past week there were little events that somehow perfected the trajectory of my life and I can feel the effect of it. Finding myself in that perfect spot on that perfect Sunday morning, I recognized the wisdom of the Universe and its infinite magic leading me to where I was. Most likely it was also where I needed to be. 

My dear friend arrived bearing my joys. Like a midyear Santa. A heavy bag of books and a heavy bag of Moleskine. He also brought a few vintage books I might be interested in (I was) and those were added to my loot.

I love vintage and old things, especially books. Look, this one survive through the war!

It was time to replenish my stocks. I am halfway through my last ruled Moleskine.

Then followed the kind of conversation that lifted one's spirits and refreshed one's faith in people and the world. Discussions about books, life decisions, the quality of paper, being independent, ideas and insights for improving our respective businesses, astronomy and mathematics, finding niches. An equal exchange without reservations or agenda, a connection that was effortless. I had missed it so very much.

We parted at lunchtime. I had a movie to catch. I also found out that another friend was joining me and my sister to the movie. Oh joy!

Before Midnight did not disappoint. I actually want to see it again and savor the words again. I didn't cry. Only almost. That part towards the end.

After the movie we had coffee and pastries at a nearby hotel. This time I was a content observer as my sister and our friend did most of the talking. But it was also one of those conversations that flowed naturally and without fear of misinterpretations or judgements. Then we went to my home to discuss options for framing my art works which I will be selling soon through another friend with a mobile vintage van (Doesn't that sound like a perfect way to start?) There were also some art and book discussions, analysis of men, women, and relationships, and a little history-digging for examples.

Brazo Bombs by The Legend Hotel. They taste like brazo de mercedes magicked into cream puffs. Very delicious!

The evening concluded with a light dinner. I started to feel tired and sleepy a little before ten. The adrenaline rush since the morning had finally worn off. I was happy. But my introvert self said, alright, time to draw back. If I had pushed myself more I would probably end up with a migraine. Oh, but make no mistake, it was the best Sunday I have ever had quite a long time.

I cleaned up, then tucked into bed with Sometimes The Magic Works. A fitting bedtime read for a beautiful day.

"I have decided, on reflection, it is best just to remember that sometimes the magic really works."
-Terry Brooks

How has the magic been working for you lately?

Afternoon Break

I am at the hard tedious sludgy part of the work which is trawling through the raw data for patterns and themes and unearthing meanings. There is so much slow reading to be done and what makes it difficult is the time given. I think it would not have been so bad if I had enough time. But I never seem to have enough time and I always have to rush or I always have something else urgent on top of it.

Work has been rather slow since after lunch so I finally took a break and made this:

"Sleeping"
Derwent colored charcoal and Inktense on Moleskine

Now I am hoping that letting my inner child have free rein and make art will make it let me work with more speed and better focus.

creative storm

Pushed to the brink and dangled over the edge of the abyss, I was left with no choice but to put uncertain hands on blank pages. Soul took over as soon as I relaxed my death grip on reason. I was starving on so many levels but as the pages filled with color and images and words, a sweet delicious taste flooded me and drowned all my inner censors and doubts.